Against the Creed
by VarelliaNoel
Summary: Altair goes about his buisness saving citizens from evil guards. But this citizen is different.... This is the first writing I have done in a while, so be kind please!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Dirty thief, I'll have your hand for that!" Yet another helpless citizen hounded by guards that I, inevitably, would have to save. I glanced over the edge of the rooftop I was standing on to assess the situation. Off to the side of one of the lesser crowded streets of Damascus, a woman was being pushed in circles by four city guards. Maybe she would throw up and they would leave her alone so I could continue on my way.

After watching for a few minutes, I decided that the woman's stomach was strong enough to stand up to the treatment it was so unfairly getting. So I jumped from the rooftop, aiming for one of the guards pushing the woman. I landed on top of him, my assassin's blade stuck in his throat. I went to pull it out, but to my dismay, it wouldn't budge. Damn.

The other guards were closing in. So I pulled my dagger out, with much difficulty, and tried to defend myself until I could get the dead man off my blade. So I stood there, hunched over, ready to fight to the death. A guard lunged at me, and I countered his attack, but because of the stupid dead man, my attack didn't hit where I wanted it to, and the man was simply stunned instead of killed.

I bet I was a sight for sore eyes, with a dead man dangling from my arm, trying to save a woman and failing almost miserably. The same guard I had stunned was recovering quickly. I needed a plan… My thinking was interrupted as another guard lunged at me. This time my attack hit home. The man went wheeling, grasping his chest.

Then something odd happened. The woman I was saving, or was trying to save, kicked out at the recovering guard and the blow connected with his face. Teeth went flying, and blood splattered the ground. The woman then proceeded to smash his face in with her fists. I was astounded. But I was quickly cured as the last guard slashed with his sword at my chest. I dodged the attack, but not quickly enough. His blade sliced through my clothing and cut a deep gash into my shoulder.

My muscles screamed. Now I was pissed. I planted my foot in the face of the dead man that was going to get me killed. I pulled at my blade to get it loose, but it just wouldn't come out_._ The last guard came to attack me again, but slipped in a puddle of blood and went sprawling. The woman ripped his helmet off and grabbed a handful of hair. She wrenched his head from side to side, and eventually his neck broke. I admired her strength.

I began to pull in earnest now, because more guards were going to show up soon. The blade wouldn't budge. The woman came over to help, and with one last heave, the blade slipped out of his neck. I kicked him in the ribs for the trouble he had caused me. The woman laughed.

"Thanks for your help," she said.

"It looks to me like you didn't need help. I could have saved myself the trouble." I sheathed my dagger and assessed the damage the guard had done to my shoulder. It didn't look too bad.

"I needed a distraction. You were perfect. And that little jump off the rooftop? That was skillfully done, my friend."

"I am _not_ your friend." I needed to get back to the bureau so that I could bandage my shoulder. The last thing I needed was an infection. I started walking. To my great displeasure, she followed.

"Hey, calm down. I was giving you a compliment. You could have just said thank you." I said nothing, hoping that maybe she would leave me alone and go be annoying somewhere else. Her footsteps were loud behind me, and I sighed.

The people were running around the streets, and I did my best to blend in. The last thing I needed was another fight. I walked at a reasonable speed towards the bureau. I wondered if my shoulder was going to hold up for the climb to get _in_. I hoped it would.

The woman was relentless. She followed me the entire way. As I got closer to the bureau, I knew that I needed her gone. So I stopped in a dark alley and pulled out my dagger. It was at her throat before she could do anything.

"_Why_ are you following me? Go home." I hoped my voice sounded threatening enough. Her eyes were wide, bright green pools in the darkness. When she didn't answer, I pressed the dagger harder into her throat. Her eyes darted left and right, as if the walls could give her a reason.

"I… I want to help you. You saved me." I thought about this. Ah, to hell with it.

"No one can help me. I must do this alone. Now go, before I kill you." I pulled the dagger from her slender neck and hoped she would leave. But she remained, standing there like a rock.

People were beginning to notice us. I glared at her.

"Where are you going?" she asked. "You need to bandage that wound, or it will get infected."

_INFERIOR WOMAN! I KNOW THIS!_ I screamed in my head. She was beginning to piss me off. I ranted on and on in my mind. I decided to lose her right that minute.

I scaled the nearest wall. My shoulder screamed its protest, but I was too annoyed to care. I reached the top and kept going. I ran towards the bureau, hoping she would not follow. I saw a ladder, and kicked it from the edge of the rooftop. I didn't want her to have any way to follow me. The ladder made a swooping descent, and landed on the head of a man walking down the street. I would have laughed any other day, but I kept running.

I stopped to check behind me, and to my horror, _she was there_. She had found a way onto the roof and was running after me! I knew my shoulder couldn't take much more climbing, and that pissed me off even more. I could _see_ the bureau!

So I kept running. My shoulder was bleeding profusely now. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid,_ I chanted in my mind. She could just follow the blood trail. I ran to the bureau, ducking behind corners, hoping she would lose sight of me. I reached the bureau and jumped inside. I fell to the ground in exhaustion. My hands were shaking, and my shoulder was throbbing dully.

The bureau leader ran into the room in a panic. His eyes surveyed the room.

"It's just me, Rafiq," I panted. The room was beginning to blur. I closed my eyes.

"Altaïr! What happened?" He ran to my side. He saw the blood that now covered my clothes and began searching for a wound. He soon found it.

"Damn, this is bad. How did this happen?"

"I was… saving… a citizen. Damn blade got stuck… in some guy's neck…" It was hard to talk. My tongue felt swollen and dry.

"Altaïr, please tell me you didn't kill another citizen. It is against the Creed!"

"It was a guard, Rafiq, calm down." Then I heard someone cough. I didn't open my eyes. I knew who it was. She had followed me here. I was going to _kill_ her. The Rafiq looked up at her.

"Who are you?" he demanded. I heard her struggling to scale the wall down into the bureau. I hoped she would fall. But she didn't. I sighed again.

"He saved me from some guards and I want to help him for saving my life." She sounded… scared. How come I couldn't scare her, but the Rafiq could?

"We don't need your help, now go." Silence. "GO!!!"

"Please! I can help him! I treat wounds like this every day."

"Oh yes? Well what makes you think I need your help?"

"N…Nothing. I just…. I want to pay him back for saving me… Is that so bad?"

There was more silence. _Please_, I begged silently, _say no. Just say no._

"I guess you can help him. But you'll leave once you're done."

_Damn._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well then. Here's the second chapter. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to use modern terms in stories set in older times. I'M SORRY. Forgive me, I beg of you. **

**Now, love it, hate it, I don't give a flying fuck, so there. AH!**

**CHAPTER TWO**

I found myself being carried into the other room, and I landed on what I guessed was a table or counter. I wanted to open my eyes and scream at her to get away, to leave me alone, but I couldn't find the strength anywhere.

"I can't get at the wound for all of his clothes. Help me get them off."

_Allah, no, _I thought. But after a moment, I felt my cloak and shirt slide off my chest, and it was _cold_.

"That's better." Evil, conniving bitch. "He really should have taken care of this sooner. He's lost a lot of blood."

I felt warm fingers on my chest and shoulder, and flinched. I didn't like this at all, but I was too tired to fight it.

"Get me something with alcohol in it, will you? And a rag, please." I heard the Rafiq move away from me. It was not long before he returned. I heard a bottle being opened, and the hands removed themselves from my body. There was a great burning at my shoulder. I breathed in sharply. Something scrubbed at my shoulder around the wound.

"I can't see for all the blood. The wound's deep. I'm surprised that he could climb and run like he did. Do you have a needle and some thread?"

The Rafiq moved away and was back again after some time.

"I haven't had to use this in a long time. Wounds don't come often here," the Rafiq said. I was beginning to feel numb, but I guess that was a good thing. I felt a hand on my abdomen.

"We need to hurry." Stupid woman. She was responsible for this. Even though I knew she wasn't, it felt better to blame it on her. I felt a tugging, and my shoulder burst with pain. I reached out and grabbed the woman's wrist, and my eyes snapped open. I felt slow, groggy. She pried my fingers away from her arm and kept working. I held as still as I could.

I could feel each muscle as it relaxed and tensed, flexing beneath my skin. My eyes slid closed again, and I was out.

I was running as fast as I could on the rooftops, trying not to lose sight of my savior as he ducked and tried to get away. I knew that I should probably have left him with a simple thanks, but he had been wounded while saving my ass, and I was compelled to help him.

I saw him duck around a corner and drop into some building. I ran after him. There was a large symbol on the roof, and just beyond that, the hole he had jumped into. I peeked over the side, trying to slow my breathing.

I saw him sitting there, propped up against a wall, the ever-present hood blocking any view of his face. Someone else walked into the room, and they exchanged words. Then, as if the world was out to get me, a bug flew into my mouth and down my throat. I coughed. The other man looked up.

"Who are you?" he demanded. I got up and climbed very ungracefully down the wall and into the room. There was a fountain at the other end, built into the wall, and a pile of pillows near the wall to my right. There was a door to the left.

"He saved me from some guards and I want to help him for saving my life." There was something different about this man. He was scarier than the one who saved me.

"We don't need your help, now go." I froze. "GO!!!"

"Please! I can help him! I treat wounds like this every day."

"Oh yes? Well what makes you think I need your help?"

"N…Nothing. I just…. I want to pay him back for saving me… Is that so bad?"

There was more silence. _Please_, I begged silently, _say yes._

"I guess you can help him. But you'll leave once you're done."

_Yes!_

We both carried my savior to a table in the other room and set him on it as gently as possible. He wasn't really heavy, but he wasn't exactly light, either.

I could barely see the wound. He wore too much clothes.

"I can't get at the wound for all of his clothes. Help me get them off."

I undid the buckles and pulled off his weapons. There were _a lot. _I grabbed his cloak and pulled it off over his head, trying to disturb his shoulder as little as possible.

"That's better." I stared at the wound intensely, preventing my eyes from wandering over his face. "He really should have taken care of this sooner. He's lost a lot of blood."

I tried to assess the damage, but the wound was deep, and blood kept gushing out all over the place. I was surprised there was any blood left in him at all. I placed a hand on his chest and another near the wound. He flinched.

"Get me something with alcohol in it, will you? And a rag, please." I didn't mean to be rude, but we needed to hurry. He wouldn't last much longer. The man came back with a rag and a bottle of liquor. I poured some directly on the wound to wash some of the blood away, then poured some on the rag and began to clear around the wound to get off some of the dried blood. No matter how much I cleared, there was always more.

"I can't see for all the blood. The wound's deep. I'm surprised that he could climb and run like he did. Do you have a needle and some thread?" The man moved away again to get what was required to help this man, who I assumed was his friend. He came back with what I needed, and I set to work.

I got the needle through the skin and pulled it through, and then pierced the other side. Once I began pulling the skin together, the man's hand shot out, as fast as lightening, and latched onto my wrist. I was startled, and I looked up into his face. His eyes were dark, almost black, and his face was covered in an expression of great pain. I pulled his grasping fingers away from my wrist, and resumed working.

I had to hurry.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry if I sounded rude in that last AN. I was pissed at my brother. XP Anyway, here's chapter three! I was writing this past Saturday, and I was writing all day, and when I took a break I looked at my word count. I had written over 3,000 words! So yeah. I was tired and my fingers hurt from all the typing. I have more chapters ready, I just want to wait before I post them so that I still have something to post if my 'creative juices' stop flowing. I think the chapters will get longer, but I don't really pay attention to that much. Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER THREE**

I sat in a chair, rubbing blood off my hands with a strip of cloth. I had asked the man if I could stay the night here, and he said I could. I asked him his name, and he said to call him the Rafiq. I asked what the other man's name was, and he told me that I should ask him myself. I stopped asking questions.

I stared around the room, listening to the man's breathing. I had no clue what this place was, and what they did here, and I wasn't going to ask any time soon. I glanced at the man, now deep asleep on the floor. With any luck, his shoulder would heal quickly and cleanly.

I thought about the events of the day. I was simply walking down the street, and the most beautiful scarf had caught my eye. I knew it was too expensive though, and I kept walking. Apparently, the vendor had seen my look of longing, and shortly after the scarf had gone missing. He naturally thought it was me.

Then I wound up in the middle of a group of guards, getting yelled at and pushed. And then my savior leapt in like an eagle. It was beautiful; right up until his blade got stuck in the guard's throat. That was the distraction I had been waiting for, and I jumped at the chance.

And now here I was, sitting in some room in a strange part of town. And I wasn't the least bit scared.

All I felt was a great deal of pain, a throbbing that emanated from my shoulder, sending wave after wave of pain through the rest of my body. I wanted to wake up, but my mind had other ideas. So I didn't. The pain continued to shoot through my body, and I slept.

"He's been asleep for a while. Should we try and wake him up?" The Rafiq sounded worried. My savior had been asleep for nearly three days, and I had been here the whole time. After that first night, the Rafiq had never kicked me out like he said he would. I think it was because he wouldn't know what to do if the man's condition got worse. I didn't mention it anyway.

"Maybe we should… He should probably eat something."

"You're right, let's wake him up." The Rafiq was_ really_ worried. We walked over to where the man was sleeping. His breathing was deep and even. I had no clue how we were going to wake him up.

I shook his left shoulder first. He didn't budge. I slapped the sides of his face gently. Nothing. This guy was like a _rock_. I clapped my hands together above his face. He twitched. It was time for drastic measures.

"WAKE UP YOU LAZY PIECE OF SHIT!" I know that probably wasn't the smartest thing to do…

His eyes opened and his breathing quickened. He sat up, staring at us like we were insane.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," we both replied. "We just thought that you should wake up," I clarified.

"Well I'm _awake_ now, so calm down," he said calmly. Then he turned to me, and his eyes turned to slits. "As for _you_, I'm going to kill you."

He made to get up, and I took off. I was across the room before you could yell Yahtzee. He was standing now, and I was surprised he had recovered that quickly. One minute he's almost dead, and the next he's making death threats. He's got _talent_.

The Rafiq chose that moment to interfere. Bless his soul.

"Hey, Altaïr. Calm down. She just wanted to help." _HA! So Altaïr is his name…_ I wouldn't have to call him 'that guy/man' anymore. Yay.

"But she followed me here, and you know that it's forbidden to allow outsiders into our world." _Our world…?_

"I won't tell anyone anything. I swear." They both glared at me. I _probably_ should have kept my mouth shut. Stupid me.

"Altaïr, before you say anything, I'll talk to Al Mualim about it. And remember, it's against the Creed to kill innocents," the Rafiq said.

"I know this." Altaïr turned away and sat down in a nearby chair. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

The Rafiq addressed him again. "Altaïr, she is here to help you, okay? Do_ try_ to be nice."

Altaïr glanced at me, and I smiled. He heaved a great sigh. My smile faded. He was going to make this hard. _I'll give you hard, you jerk face._

The Rafiq walked into the other room, I presumed, to write a letter to this Al Mualim. I moved towards Altair. His bandages needed to be changed, and I needed to make sure his shoulder hadn't gotten infected. That would cause many unwanted problems.

As soon as I reached out to undo the bandages wrapped carefully around his left shoulder, Altaïr's eyes shot open.

"Calm down, I'm just going to check on the wound and change the bandages. Try not to move, please." My fingers began to unwind the long strip of cloth. I watched as Altaïr's eyes slid closed, and he breathed deeply.

The bandages slid away. My stitching job wasn't too shabby, but I was no doctor. The skin around the wound wasn't black, green, bright red or blue, so I assumed there was no infection. Just in case, I washed it again with an alcoholic beverage I found behind the counted.

Altaïr never moved. The only sign that showed me he was alive was his breathing, steady and gentle. I finished cleaning the wound, and I went to find fresh bandages. I looked everywhere, and couldn't find anything that would work. I asked the Rafiq, but he was no help. So I figured I'd just have to wash the one we had. I set to work.

She was beginning to become less and less annoying to me. That wasn't good. I held as still as possible as she worked. I should probably have thanked her, but I couldn't pull the words out. They just wouldn't come.

She moved off, graceful in her own way, and searched for something. Apparently not finding what she sought, she went to ask the Rafiq. Eventually she came back in the room with a bowl of water and the bloody bandages she had just removed. She put the bandages in the water and scrubbed them together.

I watched her for a moment. She was absorbed in her work, and I closed my eyes again. I wondered how long I had been asleep. I needed to be out on the streets, gathering information, and yet I was stuck here!

The Rafiq came into the room then, holding a sealed letter.

"I'm going out to send this. My messenger pigeons are kept down the street. I've written of your situation in the letter, and as soon as you're healed enough to ride, you're taking her to Masyaf to see Al Mualim."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Well. I had originally written Zyra kiss Altair to make them seem like a regular couple to the guards, but then I realized, 'Zyra doesn't know Altair is supposed to be hiding from the guards… So I changed it up a bit. Thanks for all of you reading out there, but I must beg you to leave me a review! Please! I need them! It shows me that people are finding this story worth reading and wether or not I need to just give up or keep going. So please please please leave me one! Just _one_ is all it takes. Thanks! And thanks to my one reviewer, I didn't forget you!

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_Noooo!!!! _That meant that I would have to endure at least a day's ride with that _woman_.

"What's your name?" I asked her. She stared for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

"Zyra," she said. She pulled the sopping wet mass of cloth out of the bowl, and squeezed it. She hung it in a sunny spot so it could dry.

"Well, Zyra, there's food behind the counter. I'll be back after a while," the Rafiq said. He walked into the other room, and climbed the wall to the roof. I didn't know he still had it in him.

The Rafiq left, the same way we got in, I assumed. I went behind the counter to find the food he mentioned, and pulled out a loaf of bread. I broke it in half, and chewed on one side while I gave the other to Altaïr. He ate slowly.

"When do you think I'll be able to leave?" he asked after a moment. I thought about it for a minute.

"Umm… I'm not sure. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Not much anymore." I knew he was lying about that part. I could see it in his face. But if he wanted to play tough guy…

"Well, as soon as you're ready then. Though, I think you need more rest. You slept for three days. How long had you gone without sleep?"

I could see the surprise clear as day shoot across his features. But within seconds, it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference.

"I don't sleep much when I have missions," he answered. "I just focus on getting them done. I don't really worry about sleep much."

I studied his face. I knew he wasn't lying, but this was the first time I could really openly look at his face without his hood and without it looking like I was _staring_. So I studied it.

He had a strong jaw line that was covered in stubble, and deep midnight eyes. He had shoulder length, almost mahogany brown hair that was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. I had to admit, he was handsome. And that was probably why he was such a jerk.

"Well, we can go whenever you're ready," I told him. I got up to check if the bandage was dry. It was still a little damp, so I left it sitting in the sun, and sat down myself. I heaved a great sigh. There was a scrabbling noise in the other room, and Altaïr was instantly on his feet.

He was tensed, ready for anything. But the Rafiq walked into the room instead of some foe, and we both relaxed.

"Rafiq, we will leave tomorrow," Altaïr said. I was surprised. I thought he might have needed more time to heal, but if he was ready to go…

"So soon? I thought you would need more time to heal. Are you sure you are ready, Altaïr?" The Rafiq's eyes flashed to Altaïr's wounded shoulder.

"I am ready. Do you doubt me?" The Rafiq's eyes turned hard. He sighed, mumbling to himself.

Altaïr could be such a _jerk_ sometimes.

I woke early, ready to get out of Damascus and to Masyaf to see what Al Mualim would do with the woman. She could be so _annoying_ sometimes. Maybe he would sentence her to death for knowing about us, even if she didn't know what we were…

I woke Zyra up, and she blinked up at me with bleary eyes. Her wavy brown hair fell around her heart-shaped face, and I had to admit, she wasn't _ugly_. I pulled her to her feet, and gathered supplies for the ride. I put my robes back on, and strapped my weapons in place.

I hoped my shoulder would hold up against the climb to get out of the Bureau, and throughout the long day's ride. The Rafiq awoke, and Zyra bid him farewell. I nodded to him, and we departed. We walked into the other room, and I ran to the wall, my fingers finding purchase easily. I reached the top, and winced. It did hurt, but not enough for me to stay here any longer. I turned, and offered my right arm to Zyra, and she took it. I helped her up, and once she was safely on the rooftop beside me, I went to find a ladder to climb down.

I was surprised that she could keep up in that long dress. I didn't want her to fall, but that didn't mean I didn't push the pace faster. I knew she would say nothing, because she didn't want to appear weak in my eyes. What did I care if she was strong or not?

I found a ladder, and climbed down quickly, scanning the surrounding area for guards. Finding none, I motioned for Zyra to come down. Upon reaching the ground, she stumbled, and almost fell. She would have had I not caught her. She seemed to linger in my arms after she regained her balance, but I paid no mind.

We started off, and I watched for guards and templars. I didn't want another fight. I didn't think I could win against more than three soldiers. I kept Zyra moving, but she would swerve this way and that, dodging people. I didn't want her to get too far away, so I grabbed her wrist and tugged her so that she was walking behind me.

People paid me no mind, and got in my way frequently, but I just pushed them out of the way. Zyra stayed behind my back until we reached the entrance to the city. Guards were placed everywhere. I watched them from under my hood. Zyra moved beside me and grabbed my hand.

I had _no_ clue what she was doing, but I followed along. She pulled me through the gates and once out of the sight of the guards, she released my hand and laughed once safely outside the walls.

"It's beautiful out here. I've never been outside the city before…"

I stared. _Never been outside the city…?_

"Well, you'll see plenty more of the countryside before we reach Masyaf. Wait here," I pulled her over beside a haystack. I moved off to find some horses.

He really was beautiful on the outside, with his curving lips and his deep, smooth voice. It was a shame you couldn't see all of his face because of his hood. I guess it was a good thing, because he would probably be drowning in a sea of women if he didn't have it.

We walked to the edge of the city, and I felt him tense up beside me. There were guards _everywhere_. I wondered why he was so tense all of a sudden. They were just _guards._ I pulled him along, and noticed that most of the guards were looking elsewhere now. I continued pulling him until we were outside the city and I knew the guards couldn't see us anymore.

I glanced briefly around at the country around us, and smiled. It was _beautiful_. I laughed.

"It's beautiful out here. I've never been outside the city before…" I said.

He thought for a moment.

"Well, you'll see plenty more of the countryside before we reach Masyaf. Wait here," he commanded.

I watched him as he moved away. I returned to gaze at my surroundings. The mountains in the distance were huge. I wondered how tall they were.

Altaïr returned with two horses. One was tall and had a bright white coat, and the other was shorter and was a reddish brown. He handed the brown horse's reigns to me, and mounted the white horse.

I panicked. I had only ridden a horse once before in my life, sidesaddle. He expected me to ride all the way to _Masyaf_? I stood there, thinking.

"Is there a problem?" Altaïr asked. His horse danced in circles, but his eyes never left my face. I didn't want him to see me as weak _now_, so I grabbed a handful of the brown horse's mane and pulled myself up with great difficulty. I sat in the saddle, high off the ground, almost shaking. My fingers wound themselves into the horse's mane, and I held on tight.

I had never directed a horse's movement before, so I was hoping to watch Altaïr and learn from him. I grabbed the reigns and held them tightly with one hand.

Altaïr's horse spun, and he kicked it hard in the side and it took off at a gallop. I kicked my horse in the same fashion, and leaned forward to compensate for the sudden momentum. Thankfully, my horse followed Altaïr's horse. I just held on for the ride.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well. Another chapter! Thanks to you all for reading and virtual cake goes to my reviewers! I have eight chapters to this story, and I'm working on chapter nine. I WILL NOT quit on this story. At least I hope so... Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

I wanted to get moving as fast as possible. I didn't want to have to talk to her at all, so I hoped she was preoccupied with riding.

I knew she probably had never ridden a horse before, and I probably should have helped her a bit, but I didn't want to talk to her anymore. So I lapsed into the recesses of my mind, my body steering the horse's path towards Masyaf without requiring any thought..

It was a while before I allowed myself to emerge, and when I did, I noticed that my horse was covered in sweat, and its breathing was heavy and fast. I slowed it to a walk, patting it on its neck.

I heard a sigh of relief from behind me. I turned to look back at Zyra, to see if she was ok. Her green eyes were wide, and her chest heaved as she breathed. Her horse was in the same condition mine was, and I slowed my horse so that hers could walk beside mine.

Zyra's hand was entwined in the horse's mane, and it looked like I might have to cut the tangles out. Poor thing. I sat atop my horse, my body swaying along with its plodding movements. Zyra was looking around her, her eyes trying to take in everything all at once.

"Calm down," I told her. "You'll likely see it all again on your way home." She glanced at me, and smiled. She was pretty when she smiled. She returned to watching the serene surroundings, but this time more calmly.

I was going to _die_. The horse's gait was choppy and odd, and I couldn't hold on tight enough. My legs felt like they were likely to fall off, and I didn't know if I would be able to extend my fingers all the way after this.

After what seemed like _hours_, Altaïr slowed his horse, and consequently, mine slowed too. I was so relieved. I hadn't gotten to look at my surroundings much while hanging on for my life. My eyes were wide as I tried to take in everything at once.

"Calm down," Altaïr said. "You'll likely see it all again on your way home." I turned to look at him, and flashed a bright smile at him. I looked back at my surroundings, but more calmly, watching more for details instead of trying to see all that I could.

My shoulder was aching, but I wasn't paying attention to that. We were almost to Masyaf, and I was on alert for guards that were suspicious. It would be a _wonderful_ thing to finally get here and have to fight off guards to reach Al Mualim.

"Are we almost there?" Zyra's voice was soft in the evening, and the wind almost carried it away. She was exhausted, I could tell. We had been riding almost all day, and the sun was setting now, throwing brilliant rays of color all over the sky.

"We will be there soon," I replied. I felt bad for her, almost. After the horses had cooled off some, I pushed the pace again, hoping that we could reach Masyaf before nightfall. We would make it, but just barely.

The horses were trotting now, and occasionally, I would see a guard. I knew that I would see more guards, more often the closer we got to the city.

I listened for any sounds that would indicate that more than one guard was approaching. Sure enough, I heard them. Approximately ten guards. I slowed my horse to a walk, bowing my head. I glanced back at Zyra and motioned for her to do the same. She followed suit with her horse. The guards appeared up ahead, marching in rows, hands on the hilts of their swords. The all looked up at us as we rode by. I kept my eyes low, not looking at any of them. We made it by safely.

I could see Masyaf in the distance, growing closer. The fortress set on top of the low mountain rose taller than anything else in the city. It would be easy to get through the town, as night was approaching and people were likely eating their suppers, and no longer in the streets.

We reached the gate to the city, and I dismounted, leaving the horse by a haystack. I heard Zyra struggling behind me, and turned to help her.

She was trying desperately to get her leg over the horse's back, but she was failing. I reached up to offer my assistance, and after a while, she was on the ground. Her legs wobbled, though, and I feared that she might fall.

She soon stood on her own, and I helped her walk into the city. Eventually we made it inside, and as soon as Zyra saw that we would be walking up hill, she sighed heavily, but trudged on.

We made it to the fortress, and I was immediately informed that the Master wanted to see us in the library. We made our way up the stairs, and upon reaching the top, Zyra faltered. I caught her again, for the second time that day, and held on to her this time. I didn't want her to get hurt.

We made our way to Al Mualim's desk, where he was deep into a book, reading as if his life depended on it.

"Master," I said, and dropped to one knee. Zyra wasn't expecting this, and stayed standing, although she wobbled.

The Master looked up from his book.

"Altaïr, my son! Rise!" I stood again, supporting a little of Zyra's weight again as she leaned on my shoulder. The Master rose from his chair and made his way around the desk towards us. It was almost as if he never saw Zyra.

"I trust you are not hurt too badly," he said.

"No, Master. I will be fine." Finally he seemed to notice the exhausted woman hanging off of me.

"And this must be the woman I have been informed about. How are you, my dear?"

I prayed that she didn't say anything stupid

This old man was _scary_. His right eye was white, and there was something about him, an aura, I guess you could say, that just sent shivers down my spine.

Thank God Altaïr was there, because I would have limped away from that man the moment I saw him.

"I'm fine, thank you." I knew I needed to be polite. Else this guy would slice me up, or something.

"Now, I hate to bring this up, but we must discuss what will become of you, dear. I do not want to risk the Brotherhood for anything," he said, eying me. Altaïr squeezed me lightly around the waist. It was reassuring. I admit, he could be nice _sometimes_.

"Master, she doesn't know what we are yet." Altaïr's voice was smooth and deep, reassuring me. But I didn't understand what he meant…

"Well, I think I have an idea. The Rafiq mentioned something about her having hand to hand combat skills. Maybe we should train her, she could be useful."

"Master-"

"Think about it. No one would suspect a _woman_. She could get into places we've never been in before…"

"Master, I don't think that's a good idea…"

"Why not, Altaïr? I think it's a grand idea. And who better to train her than my top student and the best assassin around?"

_Assassin?_ Lord, I was in trouble. It's just my luck, going and getting myself involved with _assassins._

"Do not oppose me, Altaïr. You will train her in our ways, and she will join the Brotherhood. Now, we will speak more tomorrow. You are both weary."

"Yes, Master." Altaïr had never sounded like this before. His tone was almost _defeated_. I didn't like it.

"I'm afraid we have only one more room. Most of the assassins are here again, as there are not many missions for them to complete for me. You both can share it until another opens up. I trust you will not take advantage of her, Altaïr?"

I blushed. I had to share a room with him, and then this old man talks about him 'taking advantage' of me. Ugh. There were so many thoughts racing through my head I felt dizzy and sick. I slumped more into Altaïr's arms.

"Of course not, Master. Which room?" I stopped paying attention. I felt like I was going to be sick, and my head swam with what had just transpired. _Trained to be an assassin,_ I thought. _Just my luck._

We were moving now, and I hated to look so weak in front of Altaïr, but I was just so _tired_. I couldn't help it. I passed out.

I was trying to hurry, hoping she would wait to pass out till we reached the room. But she suddenly fell like a dead weight, and I did all I could to hold on to her so she didn't hit the floor. I heaved her up and carried her to the room. Once inside, I laid her on the bed and covered her up.

I didn't feel just how tired I was until I saw the bed sitting there, inviting me to sleep. My shoulder throbbed painfully, but I ignored it. I pulled off my weapons and robes, and fell into the bed.

I fell asleep before I could get my boots off.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hehe! New chapter! And I just realized some things. 1) I haven't put a disclaimer in here yet. 2) I originally had POV changes separated with lines, but they didn't show up here, so I put little O.O inbetween POV changes.**

**Disclaimer: You're just plain dumb if you think a measly little poor person like me owns such an awesome video game. There. I said it. I DON'T OWN IT!**

**CHAPTER SIX**

My dreams that night were filled with swirling colors, and Altaïr in his white robes. Then there were more than one Altaïr, and they all shimmered and blurred together. It was strange, because he was the only thing I saw in my dreams that night, other than the colors.

I woke up late the next morning, feeling warm and comfortable. There was something heavy draped over my side but I paid it no mind and went back to sleep.

The second time I woke up, I opened my eyes slowly, and the first thing I saw was a dark tan wall. Then the wall _moved_, and I opened my eyes further. The wall was not a wall at all, but turned out to be Altaïr's chest.

So I stared at that for a while. His skin looked smooth to the touch, and was a rich toffee in color. Scars of all shapes and sizes were scattered about his skin, and the white bandage that covered his wounded shoulder had speckles of blood on it.

I would need to change that later, I thought vaguely. Altaïr stirred in his sleep, and shifted his sleeping position so that he was on his back. His arm slid off of me, and I glimpsed his hand before it disappeared from my vision. He was missing his ring finger on his left hand. I thought that was peculiar.

I thought about what Al Mualim had said yesterday, Altaïr was supposed to train me to be an _assassin._

I didn't know _how_ I didn't guess that he was an assassin the first time I _saw_ him. I guess I was too worried about his wellbeing to pay attention to that fact. Oh well. I knew _now._

Altaïr stirred again, and I studied his face some more. His lips curved smoothly, his face relaxed in his sleep. I wondered if I would ever see him so unguarded and open when he was _awake_.

His eyelids fluttered, and I closed my eyes. He was waking up, so I pretended to sleep, and snuggled further into his side.

He took a deep breath, and he shifted some more. Eventually, he woke up. His breathing went from being the deep steady breath of sleep, to the slightly faster shallower breaths of the waking.

He grew deathly still, and I wondered why. Maybe it was me. I moaned in my fake sleep, and rolled away to face the other direction. I felt him lift his torso off of the bed. I sighed, and decided it was time for me to 'wake up'.

I opened my eyes slowly, and rubbed them. My hand was sore from gripping the horses mane yesterday, and I flexed it slowly. I rolled over onto my back, and looked up at him. His eyes were open, but I could tell he was still tired. His shoulders were slumped over, and his hands were in his lap.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. He glanced at me, and there was a haunted look in his deep black eyes. He looked away again.

"Nothing." He was lying.

"You're lying, I can tell. Really, what's wrong? You can trust me." I looked into his face, and he blinked slowly.

"It's nothing." He stood up, and began putting his robed back on. "Get dressed in something more comfortable. Pants, preferably. You can't run in a dress. I'll be back later."

With that, he left. I wondered why he didn't trust me. I got up and looked in the dresser for clothes. I found a wool shirt and some pants, and quickly changed.

O.O

Stupid dreams. They had been occurring more often, and I didn't know why. But I had bigger things to focus on now. I couldn't _believe_ that the Master wanted me to train Zyra to become one of us.

I walked back along the corridors of the fortress. I was told to meet the Master in the library. I walked silently, hoping that I didn't run into anyone else on my journey. Finally, I made it to the library. The Master was buried in a book again.

"Master," I said, alerting him to my presence.

"Ah, Altaïr. You do not usually wake up this late, but no matter. You are not to leave Masyaf until you are fully healed."

"But Master, th-"

"Yes I know. But you need this time to relax, and what better to do with your time then train Zyra in the arts of the assassins?"

"Master, why must I train her?"

"Because you found her, you brought her here and also because you are the best at what we do. You may lack proper discipline and humility, but you are the most efficient. Train her in the basics here at Masyaf, and when I feel you are ready to continue your mission, you will take her to Damascus, and test her. Both you and the Rafiq will report to me about her progress. Understood?"

The Master raised an eyebrow, and I nodded.

"Now, If she's going to be one of us, she must look like one of us," he said, motioning to a man standing to the side of the room, and the man approached me and handed me a robe similar to mine, but smaller, and it had the grey hood of a novice.

"While she is her at Masyaf, she will have no weapons. I do not trust her that much yet."

"Yes, Master." I took the robe, and took my leave. Returning to the room, I found Zyra standing at the window, gazing out at the rest of the fortress.

"Here," I said, handing her the robe. She faced me, an odd expression on her face. She looked different when not in her dress. She took the robe, almost hesitantly. Her movements were jerky as she put the robe on, leaving the hood down.

I regarded her carefully, wondering why she was so quiet all of a sudden.

"I am taking you to explore the city today, as part of your training. You will learn to find your way around, and create a map in your mind of where you have been and how you got to and from that place," I explained. She nodded mutely.

I left the room, listening to her footsteps behind me.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, sorry it's been so long since the last update, but I've been working on my book, so I haven't had time to write on this story. But you guys need another chapter, so here it is! Enjoy, and please, drop me a review and telll me what you think so far! Thanks for reading!**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

He was… distant. Guarded, as if surrounded by an invisible wall of solid steel.

I followed behind him, as quiet as possible in the leather boots I had found. They were a bit too big, but it was something I could deal with.

I wondered just how I was going to create a 'map' in my mind of a city I had only been in for one day._ I won't be able to do this. I'm not assassin material,_ I thought.

We reached the entrance to the fortress, and stepped outside into the brilliant sunshine. I shielded my eyes with my left hand, and noticed that several men were gathered around a circular ring where, inside, two men were sparring.

"Altaïr," a man said as we passed him, "Can you demonstrate true fighting prowess? My students, I fear, need to learn from a master."

"Not now," Altaïr replied.

"I understand. You must be busy," the man said, shooting a hate filled glance my way. How _rude_.

We kept walking, and I followed Altaïr into the city. We walked into a dimly lit alley, and Altaïr turned to address me.

"Other than the other day, have you ever climbed the side of a building?" he asked. It was dark in the alley, and I couldn't see any part of his face in the hollow shell of his hood.

"Um… not really…"I said. He nodded.

"Try and keep up. Watch where I place my hands and feet, and keep your pace slow so you don't fall. The buildings aren't very tall, but I don't want you getting hurt." Aww. He _did_ care. At least a little bit.

"If I jump somewhere you know you can't follow, which I will eventually, find a different way to get back with me. I won't leave you. Yet." With that, he ran towards the wall, planted his foot in a crack, and vaulted himself up. His fingers found cracks and wood paneling, and my eyes followed his every movement. He was on the roof in seconds.

My stomach twisted and I pulled my hood up. Altaïr's shadowed face appeared over the side, and I nodded up at him. I ran at the wall, and latched onto the first outcropping I saw. My fingers had never been used for much other than sewing, so they didn't grip the wall very hard.

I strained to pull myself up, thankful that Altaïr was not watching, because my face turned red from the exertion. Eventually, I made it up. It was hotter on the rooftops, and I desperately wanted to pull the thick white robe off, but I knew I couldn't.

I looked around for Altaïr, but he wasn't on the roof with me. A low whistle met my ears before being whisked away by the wind. Spinning towards the direction it came from, I spotted Altaïr standing on a different rooftop. I smirked. I ran towards him, and when the roof ended, I jumped for the roof situated on the other side of a small alley, on which Altaïr was standing on, barely making it. I landed on my knees, and got up and kept running to catch Altaïr, who was now running himself.

I watched him leap from a roof top onto a lower one, and he disappeared. I ran, and this time I jumped as I had seen Altaïr, waiting for the last moment before planting my foot firmly on the very edge of the roof and throwing myself into the empty air. Everything slowed down, and aimed for a spot to land. Landing on my feet this time, I stood and walked over to the ledge Altaïr had just disappeared over.

I peered over the side just as Altaïr was approaching the edge. His shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath, sprinted to the other side, and threw himself gracefully into the air. I had no clue what he was aiming to land on, but there were more buildings across a wide street. Unbelievably, he _was_ aiming for the buildings; it looked too far! But Altaïr defied gravity as he flew towards the building, and collided with its side. His fingers found purchase easily on the various cracks and crevices, and he pulled himself up lithely. I knew that I couldn't make that jump, and Altaïr's words came floating back to me.

I surveyed the area, and decided to run parallel to Altaïr until I could find a way to run directly behind him. Altaïr glanced at me, and I swear I saw him smirk before he took off again. I mimicked his jumping style, jumping at the last minute, trying vainly to land on my feet. The rooftops were uneven, and I tripped occasionally, but I never took my eyes off Altaïr.

We went on like this for hours before Altaïr signaled to stop. We sat on one of the higher roofs, gazing out over the city.

"You are surprisingly good at this. I think you will do fine on your test this evening." My spirits were lifted after this morning's encounter, and Altaïr seemed to have relaxed some, but his guard, his wall, was still up. I had been thinking of this morning while following Altaïr. I had thought about the stunning realization of Altaïr's chosen profession. I also asked myself why I hadn't left him, run away, before we had reached the city. I would have run, but then Altaïr might have killed me. Him being an assassin also explained why he had stared warily at the guards in Damascus and why he had run from me after being injured.

"What test?" I asked him, but he ignored my question and asked one of his own.

"Which direction is the market," he inquired. I pointed towards the right, where most of the citizens were milling about. "Good. The entrance?"

I pointed in front of us, towards the gate. We had run all over the small city, and I had tried my best to create this 'map' in my mind.

"There is not much to this city. It's easy to find your way, but it's better to start here in safety." I thought about that for a second, and decided he was right.

"Now, about this test…" I began.

"You will learn of it when the time comes. Now I will teach you the tenants of which we live by. We in the Brotherhood call it the Creed." I nodded for him to continue. "One: Stay your blade from the flesh of innocents. The meaning is clear enough. Two: Hide in plain sight. Again, simple enough to understand. Three: Do not compromise the Brotherhood. If you follow these rules completely, you will do fine."

"What about weapon training? I need to know how to defend myself…"

"If you complete you test in the allotted amount of time we will begin weapon training tomorrow. If not, we must repeat all that we have done today, tomorrow." I nodded, content just to rest.

An eagle circled lazily in the heat of the mid day sun. I watched as he watched the bird. His strong jaw line and stubble covered chin protruded from beneath his hood. These hoods were a wonder, really. Through all our running and jumping, neither Altaïr's nor mine had slipped off once. I wondered vaguely if they were magical.

Altaïr stood suddenly, his eyes roving the streets below. The eagle above us emitted a high pitched caw and wheeled to the left. Altaïr's eyes zeroed in on something on the street, and I followed his gaze.

"Stay low, and stay close," he said, and there was an undertone of urgency in his voice. I did as I was told. I hadn't had enough time to see what was wrong, but I followed Altaïr anyway. We ran _towards_ the commotion, not away as I expected. I slunk over the rooftops as silently as possible, not that it would have mattered, staying in a crouch the entire way.

My legs were still sore from the long day of horseback riding, so I was glad when Altaïr stopped. Looking down at the crowd of people in the streets below us, I was horrified to recognize my father and his men shouting into the crowd. I froze, and Altaïr, noticing everything, gave me a questioning look.

O.O

I watched as the eagle wheeled high in the sky, wondering when it would show me where the danger was. The large bird cawed and banked to the left, and I had no clue how I hadn't noticed the large crowd gathered in the streets a few buildings down from where we were. I was on my feet in an instant, and spoke quietly to Zyra.

"Stay low, and stay close," and I hoped she would. I moved off, in a half crouch, silent as the grave. We reached a building above the crowd, and after a few seconds, I felt Zyra get stiff beside me. I turned to her, questioning her with my eyes. She glanced at me, worry etched into her face. She stared back at the crowd, horrified for some reason.

I moved away from the edge of the roof carefully, tapping Zyra on the shoulder to ensure she knew I was leaving. I fully intended to ask her what the hell was going on with her, but the look on her face was stopping me. I leapt to different roofs and stopped a little ways away. The roof we stopped on had a pile of crates stacked against each other, and I climbed to the highest one. She settled on one below me.

"Now, what was that?" I demanded. I tried to keep my voice under control. She didn't reply. I moved down to the crate she sat on, and sat to one side of her. I knew her emotions had to be out of whack, with her not really having a choice about the biggest decision in her life that had just been made for her.

"What's wrong?" I asked her more gently. She took in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. I waited.

"My father is one of the wealthiest men in Damascus," she began slowly. "He is a greedy man, always wanting more. He never gives back though. As soon as I was old enough, he tried to find a rich man to marry me off to. He waited for the 'right' man to come along, teaching me of what I was to do and say when he found the perfect suitor. My mother died when I was seven. She was the only thing I really loved in life."

She glanced up at me, and I nodded for her to go on. "A few days ago," she continued, "my father told me he had found a good enough man for me to marry. I met the man the next day, and I instantly didn't like him. But my father just _loved_ him, and he told me I was to marry the man in three days time. That night I gathered my few belongings and left. I didn't have any money, and Damascus is a lot bigger than I thought it was. I'd never been out of the rich district. I got lost, and as I wandered, I saw a beautiful scarf and when it went missing I was blamed for stealing it. And then you saved me from the guards."

It was a sad story, I admit. I only wanted to know one more thing.

"Do you know those men?" I asked her. She nodded, silent.

"Have they come looking for you?"

"Most likely," she replied. "The man offered my father lots of gold for my hand in marriage."

I seethed. Her father had _sold_ her. I could tell she didn't want to go back with those men, and I decided to hide her if I needed to.

I stood, grabbing her hand and pulling her up with me. We needed to get to Al Mualim before the men did.

"Keep close," I whispered in her ear. "We have to get back on the streets to get back to the fortress. Don't look anywhere or at anyone. Keep your eyes low, and make good use of your hood to hide your face. Keep your eyes on me."

We jumped to the next roof and climbed down a ladder to get to the streets. People crowded the streets and I gently pushed them out of my way. No one ever seemed to notice our prescence.

I could feel Zyra behind me. If anything, that woman was good at listening and following directions. She was close that when I stopped, she collided with my back. Picking her head up, lips parted to mumble an apology, she saw the men, her father's men, on all sides of us, mingling in with the crowds.

I think she may have stopped breathing entirely.

"Keep your head down," I whispered urgently, trying to calm her. I took her small hands in mine, noticing that I had forgotten to give her gloves to protect her fingers while climbing. I would make sure to get her some later.

I led her off into the crowds boldly, keeping her left hand in mine so that she wouldn't get separated from me. I kept up a fast paced walk to make sure that we got to Al Mualim first. Zyra was worrying me with her behavior. There was something she wasn't telling me.

We reached the fortress in minutes, and I was glad to see none of Zyra's father's men. But I knew that they would be here soon, seeing as Al Mualim presided over Masyaf and was sort of the unofficial leader of its people.

I entered the fortress with Zyra in tow, and quickly walked up the steps to the library.

"Master," I addressed him. "I have no time to explain now, but there are men coming here to take Zyra away." She peeked out from behind my shoulder and released my hand. "I will explain later, but just trust me, please, and tell them that she is not here."

As the last words escaped past my lips, a member of the Brotherhood came up the stairs with three men in tow. I knew that they were some of the men from the city. I pulled Zyra to the side, a little ways off to the right of the Master. I forced her behind me, keeping my head low, regarding the men from under my hood. The Master's ever present guards did the same as they stood on either side of him.

The one in front was tall and well built, with a curly beard, and I assumed he was the leader because of his air of authority. I instantly began to plan the most efficient and quickest ways to kill the men if the situation turned sour. Hopefully it did not come to that, but it paid to be prepared.

"Master, these men wi-" the man began.

"Quiet, servant. I have some questions for you, Al Mualim," the leader of the men began, cutting my brother off in mid sentence.

"You will _not_ disrespect my men that way," the Master shot back. The man could be very frightening when he wanted to. "Now, what is so important?"

"My daughter has run away," the man replied. So _this_ was Zyra's father. "I demand to know if she is here or not, old man."

I lurched forward, fully intending to cut this man down where he stood for showing my master such disrespect.

"No, Altaïr." I stopped mid stride. The Master motioned for me to move back again. This man would not live for much longer if he did not watch his tongue.

"I have seen no one new here. If a newcomer showed up, my men would inform me. As of yet, nothing has been said about a woman arriving here. I have seen no new faces.

"Are you positive?" the man had a skeptical look on his face. I wanted to hit him just _one_ time. One punch would be all it took to release my anger.

"Are you deaf, young man? Or did I stutter?"

"Well, you can never trust the memory of the old. It tends to fail sometimes." I lurched forward again, a low growl slipping from in between my clenched teeth. The man saw, and leered at me. _That_ set me off. I was across the room in seconds, but Al Mualim's guards caught my arms before I could hit the bastard. I was a mere two feet from the still leering man, and I would have slammed my fist into his face and my blade into his stomach had the guards not been holding me back.

"Control yourself, Altaïr." I glanced at my master, noting the hard set of his jaw, and nodded. The guards released me. Any other day, I would have killed the man anyway, despite my master's wishes. But Zyra knew these men, and she was in a bad enough state already, so I returned to my place and stood next to her. She hadn't moved the entire time.

Al Mualim motioned again, and his guards stepped forward to lead the men out.

"If I find her, I will send word," the master said. My tension and anger flowed out of me as soon as the man was out of the room.

"Altaïr," my master addressed me. "I want an explanation." He glanced at Zyra. "But after yo have taken care of your charge."

Nodding once in agreement, I pulled Zyra towards our room by her hand. We passed many more of my brothers, and I returned their greetings.

Upon reaching the room, I closed the door behind us and set Zyra on the bed. I pulled her grey hood down around her shoulders so that I could read her face.

She was worried and shaken, I knew, but the pure _fear_ that was written on her face made me believe that there was something important she was not telling me. My anger at the man in the library came back, and I severely wanted to kill _something_.

"Was that man your father?" I asked. She sat, unresponsive, and stared at the wall. I forced my anger away, and stroked the side of her face gently once to get her attention. As she faced me, I noticed that her once bright emerald eyes were now dull and lifeless. She took a shaky breath.

"It's okay, Zyra, I won't tell anyone if you do not want me too." Another minute of silence, another shaky breath.

"Yes."

The reply was so soft I nearly missed it. I wanted desperately to know what that man had done to her to make her like this, so quiet and reserved, and _scared_.

"There is another reason why you ran away. Will you tell me?" I would wait as long as it took, even if it took _years_. She just stared at me, eyes begging me to give her time.

The door opened then, and my old friend Malik poked his head into the opening. He smiled when he saw me, and walked into the room.

"Altaïr, my brother, it's been so long! How have you been?" I smiled. Malik could dispel the worst of moods.

"I am well, brother. How have you fared in my absence?"

"Well, brother, very well. But we must catch up later. The Master wishes to speak to you." I nodded and stood.

"Zyra, I will return later. Rest now." She glanced at me, and then returned to staring at the wall. I left with Malik, and we walked through the halls in a comfortable silence. I reached the library, and saw my master staring out the window, gazing out over his city.

"Tell me everything you know, Altaïr," he said without turning. I recounted the tale Zyra had told me this morning on the rooftop, about her parents and her life. Al Mualim simply listened, curiosity etched into the lines and wrinkles of his face.

When I finished the short story, he sat for a moment before speaking.

"I need time to think on this. You both need rest, so take however many days off from her training that you need to for recuperation." I bowed my head and walked with Malik, who had been listening and silent the entire time, back to my shared room.

We found Zyra laying on her side, facing the wall opposite us, on top of the blankets, but she was not asleep. Whatever her father had done to her, it must have been terrible. I should have killed him…

"Ah, I almost forgot!" Malik exclaimed. Zyra jumped, and peered over her shoulder at us. "Brother, I fear that your birds have missed you in your absence. Suhaym even went off his food. You should visit them." I waited, debating wether or not to leave Zyra alone like this. But I did miss Suhaym and the others… I nodded at Malik, and turned to Zyra, who had rolled back over and was staring at the wall again.

"Zyra?" I said softly, resting my hand lightly on her shoulder. "Would you like to come with me?" She turned her head slowly to look up at me. She seemed indecisive, but I knew she would like my animal friends. She eventually nodded her head yes, and stood up slowly.

I was glad she had agreed. Maybe the birds would take her mind off things for a while. I led her out of the room again, and started off towards the aviary. She stayed close to me, walking on my left side. Halfway there, I felt her hand slip into my left one.

She had probably noticed by now that my ring finger on that hand was missing. On any other day, I would have expected her to poke it and then giggle about how odd it felt, but not today. She didn't seem to mind, or maybe she _hadn't_ noticed yet.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Well, I decided that I'd written enough today so I'm uploading a new chapter. Two in one day! WHOO! Hope you guys like it, and as always, drop me a review please! Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own squat. Oh, but if only I did.....**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

I followed Altaïr as he led me to the fortress. I did as he said, keeping my head down and hiding beneath my hood. The bastard stopped so fast though, that I slammed into his back. I looked up, about to apologize, when I saw my father's men all around us. My breath caught in my throat, and I thought I was going to die, right there.

"Keep your head down," Altaïr whispered to me. I calmed down a bit at the sound of his soothing voice. He took my small hands in his larger ones, and I tried to stop shaking. He turned, keeping one of my hands in his and led me off into the crowd.

I followed obediently, praying that my father wouldn't see us and recognize me. He would kill Altaïr, and probably me too. No, he wouldn't kill me. He wouldn't be able to make any money off of me if I was dead.

Altaïr kept up a fast paced walk, and I tried to control my hyperactive breathing. We reached the fortress in no time, and I was relieved to find none of my father's men had reached it before us. Altaïr pulled me inside and up a stair case and addressed the man from last night, Al Mualim.

"Master," he said. His voice was quiet, yet urgent and commanding at the same time. "I have no time to explain, but there are men coming here to take Zyra away." I peeked out from behind Altaïr's broad shoulder, and dropped his hand, which I had been clutching as if my life depended on it. "I will explain later, but just trust me, please, and tell them that she is not here."

Just then, another man in white walked up the stairs to our right as we stood in front of Al Mualim. I recognized instantly my father out of the corner of my eye, and all my movement ceased. Time seemed to slow, and I vaguely felt myself being pulled over to a corner of the room, and Altaïr positioning himself protectively in front of me.

My father was in the _same_ room. If he recognized me, it would all be over, and he would beat me until I didn't remember anything. He had done it before… to both me _and_ my mother.

I stood there, my head down, thanking Allah that the hood covered my entire face except my chin. Altaïr moved suddenly in front of me, but I hadn't heard what it was that made him move. He regained his position in front of me, and I tried to pull myself back into the current time and out of the memories drudged up by my subconscious mind about my father's past harassments.

I eventually made it out, and the first thing I heard was a positively _inhuman_ growl emitting from deep within Altaïr's chest. I vibrated the air around me until he moved away. I began to panic, because my only defense had just walked _away_ from me!

I began to hyperventilate, trying to be as silent as possible to keep attention away from me. Two men in the same robes Altaïr wore moved up and stopped Altaïr before he could hurt my father. I cursed them silently. I averted my eyes from the scene, hoping to calm my nerves.

Altaïr was back in place in front of me in a moment, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I couldn't move my arms, my legs, _anything_. Then, suddenly, they were leaving, escorted by the two guards that had restrained Altaïr moments before. I still couldn't force my mind to cooperate.

Then we were moving. Altaïr was pulling me away from the room and down a hallway, away from my father. I could sense Altaïr's frustration, and wondered if it was directed at me. We reached the room, and he set me on the bed after closing the door. He pulled my hood down to rest around my shoulders. He studied my face intently. I wondered what he was looking for.

I couldn't make myself concentrate. And then warm, slightly hesitant fingers ran down the side of my face, and I forced myself to come out of the state I was in, even if it was only for a moment.

"It's okay, Zyra, I won't tell anyone if you do not want me too." I tried to force myself to breath, but could only muster a shaky breath.

"Yes," I replied. I cursed myself.

"There is another reason why you ran away. Will you tell me?" I desperately wanted to answer him, to tell him everything, but I couldn't make my mouth move, couldn't force _these_ words out. So I stared at the wall.

The door opened then, and another white robed man walked in. He was slightly taller than Altaïr.

"Altaïr, my brother, it's been so long! How have you been, brother?" The man spoke in a deep voice, but it wasn't as self assured as Altaïr's.

"I am well, brother. How have you fared in my absence?"

"Well, brother, very well. But we must catch up later. The Master wishes to speak to you." Altaïr stood to leave, and I continued staring at the walls, though I wanted desperately to beg him to stay, to protect me here.

"Zyra, I will return later. Rest now." I glanced at him, and I knew my eyes were filled with sadness. I wanted to sleep, but I knew that I wouldn't if Altaïr was not here, watching over me. But he left, and I stared at the wall again for a moment before laying down on my side facing away from the door.

I think I cried a little, because my breathing started to make noise when I breathed through my nose. I disregarded the fact, too wrapped up in the pain of my memories. The memory of the pain as my father slammed me up against a wall and held me there by my hair, telling me that he would beat the spirit out of me before breaking my arm. The memory of him tying me up and forcing me to watch as he stabbed my poor mother to death right in front of me.

It seemed like years before Altaïr returned. I knew that he knew that I hadn't told him the full story of why I ran away from my father. But I didn't know if I could trust him with that information yet, even though he had saved my life in Damascus.

"Ah, I almost forgot!" I heard someone in the doorway exclaim. I jumped, and peered over my shoulder to see who it was. It was Altaïr's friend from before. "Brother, I fear that your birds have missed you in your absence. Suhaym even went off his food. You should visit them."

Altaïr waited, and I knew that I was the only thing keeping him from saying yes immediately.

"Zyra?" he said softly, resting his hand lightly on my shoulder. "Would you like to come with me?" I turned my head slowly to look up at him, and tried to decide wether or not to get up and go with him, or to stay here and keep him from his birds. I knew he would not leave me, and I was grateful for that, because the last thing I wanted right now was to be alone. So I nodded.

I stood up slowly, making sure that my weak knees would support me. When I felt that they would, I followed Altaïr and his friend Malik out of the room and down the hallway. I didn't know where we were going, but I imagined my father around every corner, waiting for me, and dragging me home as I screamed.

But he wasn't there. Ever. I was still insecure, so I slipped my right hand into Altaïr's left. I noted that his ring finger was missing, and that I wasn't just seeing things this morning. I wondered how he lost it.

Eventually, Altaïr led me around a corner and opened a big wooden door at the end of the hallway. He led me inside slowly.

The room was dimly lit, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the low lighting. There was a hole in the ceiling, and a few rays of the sun filtered through. The first thing I noticed was the feathers. They were _everywhere_. And then shapes began to take form; fluttering, moving shapes.

They were _birds_! They ranged in sizes and colors, but they were all birds of prey, except for the few pigeons and crows scattered about. They perched on round poles that stuck out of the rounded walls. The poles were situated at different levels and reached almost to the high ceiling with the hole built into the center.

Altaïr shut the door after bidding farewell to his friend, and gave a long, two toned whistle, and one of the birds took flight. It was _huge_ and it flew right at Altaïr, who held out his right arm. The bird landed lightly on Altaïr's gauntlet, and bowed his head so Altaïr could scratch it.

I watched a smile form on Altaïr's full lips, and smiled myself. The birds were enough to distract me from my painful memories, and I was glad for the reprieve. Altaïr turned to me, and his smile widened when he saw mine.

He approached, the large bird still gripping his arm with its long, curving, shiny black talons.

"This is Suhaym," he said, rubbing the bird over its eyes. The bird's light brown feathers ruffled a bit in pleasure, and one of its golden eyes opened slightly and regarded my for a moment before it closed again.

"Arrow," I said. Altaïr looked up from watching the bird. "It suits him. What kind of bird is he?"

Altaïr smiled again. "He's a gyrfalcon. They usually stay farther north, but a trader caught one while he was up north, and he brought it back down here to sell. He was in poor condition when I found him, and I decided to save him from a possibly terrible life. He's fast, so I named him arrow."

I smiled and looked at the other birds on their perches, spotting a beautiful silvery white bird sitting on one of the higher perches. I turned to Altaïr, who was now feeding Suhaym a dead mouse.

"Do you want to hold one?" he asked. He looked up at me for a moment.

"Yes," I replied quietly. He nodded and moved to the wall near the door and picked up a heavy looking leather glove off of a shelf I hadn't noticed before. He walked over to me, the large bird on his arm staring around intently.

Altaïr handed me the glove, and I slipped it over my right arm. It was thick and went all the way up to my elbow, and was almost uncomfortably heavy.

"Hold your arm out like this," Altaïr instructed, and I did as I was told. He then gave a shorter, higher pitched whistle, and the beautiful white bird launched itself from its perch and flew straight towards me, wings beating almost silently. It took all my willpower to stay standing there and not dive out of the way.

The bird pulled up sharply, as it was flying low to the ground, and landed on my arm, gripping hard so as not to fall. I was glad that the glove was separating my arm from the bird's imposing talons. It settled its wings against its side, and looked at me expectantly. I heard Altaïr chuckle to the left of me.

He walked over, carrying a dead mouse in his left hand. He extended it to me, and I picked it up boldly. I eyed the bird's sharp beak, hoping that it didn't miss the mouse and tear open my hand. But the bird expertly grabbed the mouse from my hand and instead set it on my arm. The bird tore into the mouse, and I looked away.

"I think she likes you. Areebah doesn't usually take to strangers." I looked over to find Altaïr staring at me. He had pulled his hood down, as it was warm in the room, and I did the same.

"What does she usually do to strangers?" I asked warily.  
"Many men have walked out of this room with missing fingers because of her. But it's not her fault," he said lovingly.

It was amazing, watching Altaïr and his birds. I didn't think that he could have loved anything like this, but he proved me wrong, and for some reason, I was glad.

I turned to look just in time as Altaïr gave another whistle and Suhaym launched himself off of Altaïr's arm. Another whistle, and a crow came and alighted on Altaïr's shoulder. He handed the bird something that looked like a lizard of some type, but the bird took off again before I could see what it was.

This went on for a while, and it seemed like Altaïr had a different whistle to call each bird.

"Did you train all of these birds to respond to your whistling?" I asked, stroking Areebah's feathers. She had finished her mouse, and had settled down on my arm.

"Yes. Each bird has been trained to respond to different whistles for different commands, but each bird has its own unique whistle to call it to me."

"How long did it take you to train them all?"

"I used to get injured a lot, and I had a lot of spare time, so I decided to train birds to keep myself busy."

"And that eagle earlier today, did you train it too?"

"Yes. I train some birds to fly around over the cities that we have bureaus in, and when an assassin needs a little help finding and avoiding danger, he looks for an eagle to show him. Whatever direction the bird flies in, inevitably, is where the danger is."

I thought about that for a moment. It was truly amazing that someone could teach these animals to do things like that. I looked up at the hole in the roof, and another question formed in my mind.

"How do you keep them all here?"

"They are free to leave when they please, but they stay here because during the winter, food gets short. Some birds leave right away, but come back in the middle of winter because they can't find food. And they _know_ we have food here."

It was interesting. This entire place was interesting. Altaïr moved closer, a large brown bird on his arm. Areebah's head shot up from its dozing position and she skawked at the bird Altaïr was holding.

"Thaqib," he said, gesturing to his bird, "is Areebah's brother. They are both black chested snake eagles. I saved them from certain death, and they both grew up here. They don't have the option of leaving because they were raised in captivity and would not know how to live in the wild."

Altaïr's voice was sad. The poor things. I was distracted by Altaïr's scrutiny of my face. It was maybe the third time he had done it in the past ten minutes.

"Are you alright now?" he asked softly. My eyes snapped up to his. I hadn't known that he was that worried about me.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Altaïr. You have no clue what he would have done to me if he had known it was me standing in the same room with him." I cursed him for bringing that up again. I was finally happy and he ruined it.

"I'm sorry, Zyra. I… I would be able to help you if you told me what he would do to you. What he _has_ done to you." I would have to tell him sometime. Better sooner rather than later.

"Okay," I said, resolutely. He gave another long whistle, and both the birds took off. I watched Altaïr as he almost threw Thaqib into the air. The birds flew away and landed on a perch beside each other.

I removed the thick glove from my arm for it was hot and cumbersome. My arm muscles had strained to keep up the bird's weight for such a prolonged amount of time. I walked over to the wall and sat down, picking up a feather and twirling it around between my fingers. Altaïr sat next to me after a moment. His warmth was reassuring next to me, and I sat in silence as I thought about the best way to explain to him how truly terrible my father was.

"I didn't tell you this because I didn't want you to feel sorry for me. You know how I told you my mother died?" he nodded, silent. "Well, she did die, but it wasn't of natural causes." I gulped, readying myself to tell the story. "One night, my father came home from work late, and he was angry about something that didn't go right. My mother knew that he was angry, and told me to hide under the kitchen table. I didn't have time to hide anywhere else.

My father walked in the room, and my mother greeted him as nicely as possible. He demanded where his dinner was, and my mother told him that she had put it on the counter. He ate it, and didn't even sit at the table. I was glad. I hated being anywhere near my father.

"I don't even really know what made him so mad… He just exploded, demanding to know where I was. My mother didn't tell him, and he slapped her. I jumped and hit my head on the bottom of the table, and my father came over and grabbed me. He tied me up to one of the legs of the table. It was heavy, and I couldn't pull it, or lift it, or anything. I was helpless against him.

"He took my mother by her throat and threw her into the wall. She fell to the floor, and her head was bleeding all over the place. I was scared. He pulled a knife off the counter and stabbed her to death right in front of me."

O.O

I listened to her story, watching her eyes glaze over as she relived that night. When she finished, she just stared at the wall, a blank expression on her face. I felt my anger swell up inside me, and an intense hatred formed for her father. After a while, she continued.

"After that, I had to take up the duties of the house. My father would come home with lots of different women. It was like he didn't even miss my mother. It went on for years. When I was seventeen I confronted him about it, and he punched me in the stomach and threw me into the wall like he had done my mother. He broke my arm, and then took me to the healer to fix it.

"He never hit me in the face, never cut me. He didn't want to leave any scars, he said. Didn't want to make me less desirable. He wanted to fetch the best price possible for me. I did as he said, but it still wasn't enough for him. He told me he was going to find me a husband, and that he didn't care if I loved the man or not. He just wanted the money. He had the nerve to say that to my _face_."

She was crying now, and the tears rolled unhindered down her face. I should have killed that man when I had the chance.

"Do you hate him?" I asked her quietly.

"With every fiber of my being, Altaïr. Every _fiber_." And I believed her. Wholly and truly, I believed her. I turned to her, and she looked up at me. She still hadn't dried the tears, so I reached out my right hand and gently brushed them away for her. She turned away and laughed, wiping the rest away herself.

"I'm sorry, I told myself not to cry, and yet I did anyway."

"Do not apologize. You are human, Zyra. It is natural to cry."

"Do you cry, Altaïr?" she asked after a moment. I was taken aback by her question. I thought, and I couldn't remember the last time I _had_ cried.

I chose not to answer, instead getting to my feet and helping her up.

"You are probably tired and hungry. Let's go find some food." I led her into the hallway and pulled my hood up. She followed me obediently, and I wondered if it was because of her father. I felt her eyes scrutinizing me as we walked, but chose to ignore it instead of confronting her about it.

We eventually reached the room where we took our meals, and I spotted Malik talking to one of the cooks. They both turned their attention to us as we entered, and Malik smiled in greeting when he recognized us. The cook got up and went to prepare something for us, and I nodded my thanks to him.

I sat down at the table Malik was sitting at, and Zyra sat down next to me. She had pulled her hood up to.

"Brother," Malik said, "I apologize to be the bearer of bad news, but word of your student has traveled quickly among our brothers. Some of them feel that Zyra should not be here. Brother Nashwan has been spreading rumors about you two. I have tried to quiet them, but you and I both know that Nashwan is out to get you. He will do anything to turn our brothers against you."

I was angered by this news, but hid it well. Nashwan had been jealous of me since we had been grey hooded novices together. The Master had quickly promoted me up through the ranks because of my skill level. Malik was two years older than me, and was promoted to the rank of Master Assassin a full three months after me. But unlike others, he did not resent me for my skill, but allied himself with me quickly. He was the closest friend I had in the Brotherhood.

"He has become very tiresome lately. But no more of this. How is Kadar faring?" I switched the subject as the cook brought out two bowls of thick soup and bread. Zyra ate hungrily, and I picked at my food, only eating a bit of the soup and bread while Malik talked.

"Kadar is well. His training is still slow, as he is slow to learn, but I think he has improved much since you last saw him."

"That is good. Is he training tomorrow?"

"Yes, in the arena. You should come watch." I smiled. Malik was proud of his younger brother, and loved to show him off to anyone willing to watch.

"I think I will. Maybe Zyra could benefit from watching the novices sparring. The Master has given us a few days off of training. I'm glad. I don't think my shoulder can take much more abuse."

"It is wise to rest your wounds, Altaïr. Otherwise they may not heal properly. How many times must I tell you this? And look, you do not even eat like a man of your size should! You go days before you sleep. It is not healthy, brother. Your body will fail you if you do not care for it properly."

"I am not a child, Malik. I know these things." Malik was like the big brother I never had. He cared for me like he cared for Kadar. He was the closest thing I had to family.

"Then why do you not show it? I am worried for you, little brother. And you know how I hate to worry." I smiled.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry." He gave me a reprimanding look, and I smiled wider. Eventually he smiled back.

"I can never stay mad at you for long, and sometimes I hate that," he said, punching my shoulder lightly from across the table. "Now go, rest. I will see you tomorrow."

I nodded, and stood to leave. Zyra's bowl was empty, and there were only a few crumbs left from the bread. I gave her an apologetic look for not feeding her sooner. She just patted her stomach before getting up.

We left and walked back to our room. My shoulder began to ache, and I rubbed it to sooth the pain a bit. We entered the room, and Zyra immediately started rooting around for something.

"What are you looking for?" I asked her.

"Bandages for your shoulder," she replied. She returned into the main part of the room with a triumphant smirk on her face. "Take off your robes and lie down on the bed," she instructed, and I pulled off my weapons and set them on top of the dresser and slipped out of my robes.

My shoulder protested as I pulled the robes over my head, and I drew in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. I laid down on my right side so she would have access to the wound and closed my eyes. I felt her come near and pull at the edge of the bandages. She began unraveling them from around my shoulder, and I lifted my left arm so she would have an easier time pulling them off.

Once they were all off, and clucked her tongue and pushed at the skin around the stitched up gash. I tried not to move while she worked doing whatever it was she was doing to accomplish something unknown to me.

Eventually, she began to apply the new bandages to my shoulder, and I lifted my arm to help her out again. When she was done, she moved away and I rolled over onto my face and tried to even out my breathing. It was a few minutes before she reentered the room, and apparently it looked like I was sleeping, because she sat on the edge of the bed near me.

Her fingers, soft and warm, began tracing the many scars I had acquired during my life as an Assassin. The older, faded scars, the newer, pinkish scars, she traced them all, not missing one. I never expected something like what she was doing to feel so _good_.

She followed one of the newer scars than extended down my back and curved around to my left hip, and as her fingers traced it as light as a feather, my muscles tensed against my will. She moved to a different scar after that.

"You have _no _idea how wonderful that feels." I felt her hesitate, and almost laughed, but she boldly continued. I rolled onto my back, and she traced the scars on my chest.

"I thought you were asleep. Do you want me to stop?" she said, glancing up at me.

"Not unless you want to." I closed my eyes again, and just relaxed. As she finished tracing the last scar, she laid down beside me and threw her arm over my chest and snuggled into my side. She was warm against my bare skin, and I placed my arm behind her head and rested it gently on the bed beside her back.

I had never been with a woman like this. I never had the time. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was just… different. She sighed, and her breath tickled my skin. This was nice. I had no idea how long it had been since I had just relaxed. Malik was right. I needed to slow down.

"When am I going to get to hear about your life?" Zyra asked, breaking the silence.

"Um… What do you want to know?"

"Are your parents still alive?" Her voice was quiet and timid, as if she was expecting a reprimand for being curious.

"No. They died when I was little."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay. I don't miss them. I have a new family. And my new family cares a lot more than they did." I tried not to let any bitterness slip into my voice. "And now you're a part of this family too, despite what some of the members say. We_ will_ protect you. _I _will protect you."

O.O

His wound wasn't too bad anymore. The bleeding had stopped long ago, and all it needed now to heal was for Altaïr to rest. I finished bandaging Altaïr's shoulder and threw the old bandages into the wastebasket in the other room. When I came back, Altaïr was laying facedown, asleep on the bed. He must have been exhausted.

I sat down next to him, eyes roving over his many scars, and before I could stop myself, my right index finger was tracing along the lines, some thin and almost faded, some new and angry pink.

I traced each one, moving to the longest one next. It curved from his right shoulder down onto his left hip and extended onto his front. I ran my finger along it, and when I reached his side, his muscles flexed beneath my fingertips. I moved on to a new scar.

"You have _no _idea how wonderful that feels." His voice startled me, but after a moment's hesitation, I continued. He was _supposed_ to be sleeping! I felt like an idiot. He rolled onto his back.

"I thought you were asleep. Do you want me to stop?" I said, glancing at him.

"Not unless you want to." Well, to be honest, I didn't want to stop. So I continued, tracing the scars on his chest. He must have had hundreds of them. It was a shame, really. He had such beautiful, smooth skin.

I finished tracing the last scar, and laid down beside him, throwing my right arm over his chest and snuggled into his side like I had this morning before he had woken up. It seemed like such a long time ago…

He placed his arm behind and partly beneath my head and rested his hand gently on the bed behind my back. It was warm and comfortable.

"When am I going to get to hear about your life?" I asked, almost hating myself for breaking the silence.

"Um… What do you want to know?"

"Are your parents still alive?" I asked quietly.

"No. They died when I was little."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's okay. I don't miss them. I have a new family. And my new family cares a lot more than they did." He was fighting to control his voice, and I could hear an undertone of bitterness slip into his voice for a mere second, and then it was gone. "And now you're a part of this family too, despite what some of the other members say. We _will _protect you._ I_ will protect you."

I fell asleep, knowing very well that I was safe from my father.

Zyra was asleep within minutes. Her breathing was slow and gentle. I was glad that she had come out of whatever had happened to her this morning. The birds had worked like a charm, like I knew they would.

What I _didn't_ expect, however, was how Areebah had so quickly accepted her. It was dangerous, calling Areebah to Zyra. Some men had lost _more_ than just fingers to her sharp beak and talons, but I had had an impulsive feeling and acted without thinking.

Zyra rotated in her sleep so that her back was facing me. I pulled the blankets up over her, trying not to wake her up. Closing my eyes, I let sleep take me.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. My little brother has just discovered the wonders of the internet and likes to play games. So yeah. Here's another chapter, I hope you all enjoy! It's the longest one yet! YAY. Next chapter, I think you guys will hate me though. But I'll explain why when we get there. Thanks for reading, and if you have the time, I'd love to hear your thoughts about this thing! **

**CHAPTER NINE**

I woke up the next day feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time. I lay there for a while, my eyes closed, just relaxing. The bed was empty, and I presumed Zyra had gone off looking for food. _I hope she doesn't get lost…_ I thought.

I really didn't want to get up, but it was late, and I was beginning to get restless. I raised myself slowly from the bed, feeling just how sore my shoulder was. I needed a rest, I admitted, but I couldn't stay inactive for long.

I stood and grabbed a shirt from one of the drawers and put it on. My robes were covered in blood and sweat, and needed a good washing. I replaced my hidden blade at my felt wrist, rolling the sleeve up to accommodate for the gaudy gauntlet that held the blade in place. I grabbed a sheathed dagger and slid it into my right once I had put them on.

I walked out of the room, taking my time. Al Mualim was right. There were a lot of Assassins here. I passed many, returning their greetings, continuing my way along the halls, when I spotted Malik.

"Malik, have you seen Zyra?" I asked.

"Yes. She is out watching the training at the ring." I nodded my thanks. Malik was wearing garb similar to mine, but his hidden blade was not with him. I shook my head as I made my way down the stairs to the courtyard.

There was a large crowd gathered around the ring, and I spotted Zyra easily among the other members of the Brotherhood. She was shorter than the men, and was obviously feminine. We would have to work on that…

I made my way silently towards her, and once I was at her side, I spoke into her ear.

"Having fun?" She jumped and spun around, and people stared at us for a moment before turning their attention back to the sparring match in the ring.

"You're a _very_ sneaky person," she said after regaining her composure.

"It comes with the training," I replied. We watched the fight for a moment. I recognized Malik's little brother, Kadar, along with another novice that I had helped train. Kadar was skilled with a blade, but he was slow and cumbersome. One thing I regretted was not being able to help develop the speed our actions required.

I watched for another moment, before grabbing Zyra's hand and pulling her away.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her. She nodded, and I led her to the room we had been in last night. She seated herself at a table, and I sat beside her. One of the cooks brought over some food for us, but I refused mine. I wasn't hungry. Zyra gave me a warning look, but I shrugged it off.

I sat as she ate, listening in on a conversation some feet away.

"It's _despicable_. She's a woman; Al Mualim can't seriously expect her to do as well as us men." I didn't have to look to know who was talking. It was Nashwan, up to his usual tricks.

He had been jealous of me for as long as I could remember. We had been friends once, when we had both been novices, but as my skills developed and his did not, he began to limit friendly relations between us before he finally declared his hatred of me.

I had befriended Malik shortly after that. Since then, though, Nashwan had been out to get me, finding the smallest things to complain to Al Mualim about. Things that I had done. I sensed that Al Mualim was getting tired of his constant whining, and hoped that maybe he would have him beheaded. Fat chance.

"I think it's a good idea, but I don't think Altaïr is the best choice to train her. You know how he is with women," another voice said. I didn't recognize this voice, but it didn't matter. I had no clue what they were talking about when they said 'how he is with women'. I'd never been with a woman before. Where were the rumors coming from?

I tuned the voices out, instead focusing on the intricate designs on the wooden table top.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Zyra asked. I moved my gaze from the tabletop to meet her eyes, shrugging.

"What do you want to do?" She shrugged as well, and we sat in silence for a few moments.

"I know!" she exclaimed. Everyone in the room turned their attention to her, and her face flushed pink. "Sorry," she said a little quieter, "Maybe you could show me your birds in action."

I nodded, listening again to Nashwan as he whispered to his friends. I was feeling a bit confrontational today, and when I heard him call Zyra a wench, I was on my feet and across the room in seconds, and had flung Nashwan up against a nearby wall, my fingers constricting around his throat.

His eyes were filled with uncontrollable fear. Many hands pulled at my arms, begging them to loosen their hold, and after I shot a warning glare filled with death threats at Nashwan, I released him and exited the room.

Zyra followed me, and I knew she thought that I didn't know she was there, but I didn't say anything. I walked at a reasonably fast pace until I reached the aviary, my subconscious destination.

I moved into the room, waited until Zyra had entered as well, and closed the door behind us. Without thinking, I slammed my fist into the stone wall to release some of my anger. I knew I would regret that, but at the moment, I didn't care.

Some of the birds fluttered up in the rafters as the echo of bone meeting stone resounded through the circular room. Feathers fell to the floor, and the almost silent sound of beating wings was all I heard. Suhaym landed on my right shoulder and dug his claws in to regain his balance. His talons sliced through the bandages that covered my wound, and I winced.

I didn't feel my hand until Zyra grabbed it and extended my fingers from the clenched position I had them in. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, closing my eyes.

"What happened in there?" Zyra asked. Her voice was just above a whisper.

"He called you a wench." She laughed, and I shot her a glare. She silenced immediately.

"You scare me sometimes," she said after a moment. "But that was not something to choke a man over. My father called me worse things than that every day." Her voice was quiet in the stillness.

The sun shone through the hole in the roof, and I wished I had my hood to shield my face. I took my hand from Zyra's gentle grasp and slid down the wall till I was sitting on the floor with my back leaning against it. I closed my eyes, willing the sharp throbbing pain in my hand to go away. Zyra slid down beside me.

"Where are you from?" I asked her after a while. Her eyes were green where most people's were brown, and her accent was slightly exotic.

"My father is Arabic, but my mother was French. We lived in France for most of my childhood, and I grew up speaking the language. After my mother died, my father moved us to Damascus, and that's where I've lived ever since then. Until now," she added after a moment.

O.O

Altaïr could be _very_ scary when he wanted to. His obsidian eyes held the power to entrance people with their beauty in one moment, and then rip their souls from their bodies the next. His mood swings, I was beginning to find out, were quick, and potentially fatal. I would have to remember to stay on his good side.

Suhaym squawked from his perch on Altaïr's injured shoulder. Altaïr raised his injured hand and stroked the large bird's feathers absentmindedly. Without warning, Areebah appeared from the shadows above, gliding down towards us on silent wings. She snapped her wings open, slowing her descent, and perched lightly on the toe of Altaïr's boot.

Altaïr ignored her for a time, so she hopped to my boot and along my leg, begging for attention. I scratched above her eyes, and she bowed her head, pushing into my touch. Altaïr whistled at my side, and both birds took off and flew out of the room through the hole in the ceiling.

Altaïr stood and helped pull me to my feet. His hand didn't seem to be bothering him, which was odd, because he had almost broken three of his knuckles. But if he wanted to play tough guy again, that was fine with me.

I followed him out of the room and down a hallway towards the courtyard. I had taken some time this morning before Altaïr woke up to get my bearings in the large fortress. I could figure out the way to get out to the courtyard and to our room.

We stepped out into the sunlight, and Altaïr led me off to the left, towards a tower I hadn't noticed before. He climbed a ladder, and I scurried up after him. We reached the top, and Altaïr kept going up another ladder. I took a moment to catch my breath, and followed him up.

At the top, there was a circular room much like the aviary, but slightly larger around, and the ceiling wasn't so high. Most of the room was walled in, except for one side, where there were no walls, only three platforms that extended away from the circle of the floor before ending.

Peering over the edge, my stomach swirled when I saw the drop off. There were three piles of hay beneath the three platforms. Altaïr whistled again, and I moved away from the edge. I moved over to his side, and watched as Areebah and Suhaym glided down from the skies and landed on two of the platforms.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"You said you wanted to see them in action," he said lowly, a slight smirk gracing his lips. God, he was beautiful. "We can't do much, because they work best when you're on missions, but there are a few things they can do."

He turned towards the birds, whistling to them in low, double toned pitches. I watched carefully, but my attention was distracted as both of the huge birds _fell_ from their perches. Altaïr stood, and whistled high and loud. The birds appeared over the edge again, flying straight up before disappearing above us.

They returned a few minutes later, both carrying small mice in their beaks. They landed back on the platforms, and at another whistle from Altaïr they tore into the little furry corpses.

"If one of the brotherhood is injured on his way back to Masyaf, the birds are trained to hunt and bring food back to the injured man. Or woman, in your case," he said, smiling slightly at me. I was glad his dark mood had faded. I owed it entirely to the birds.

"So by whistling, you can command these birds to do various menial tasks?"

"They have also been trained to peck an enemy's eyes out. _That_, I assure you, is _not_ a menial task. These birds could mean life or death for some people."

I thought for a moment, and eventually nodded in agreement. We sat down next to each other, leaning our back on the wall behind us.

"So, how do you train them?" I asked after a while.

"It takes a lot of time, not because the birds are too stupid, but because, oftentimes, they are too _smart_. I train them while I am not on missions. Lately, I haven't had much time to spend with them." His voice held a note of sadness in it, and I felt bad for him. "I think Al Mualim plans on working me to death."

I laughed.

"I can't picture that," I said. "You have too much stamina to die from work overloads."

"And you haven't even seen me in action yet." His voice was smooth, but the way he said it made it sound like a threat. Or an innuendo, but I didn't want to think of it that way.

"Oh, I'm scared," I said, laughing. He smiled, returning his attention to Suhaym and Areebah. He whistled again, and they both flew off again. We sat in silence for a while after that, and I snuck glances at Altaïr every so often, trying to memorize his face. It was a difficult task, as I could only see half his face.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Altaïr asked me. His black eyes were brighter then I'd ever seen them before. It took me a moment to regain control of my thoughts.

"Whatever you want to do is fine with me," I said after a while.

"Well, you may not want to do what I want to do."

"What do you want to do then?" he was silent for a moment before getting to his feet and making his way over to the ladder to climb down. "Altaïr? Hey, wait up!"

I ran to catch up with him, almost falling down the ladders. He walked at an easy, relaxed pace, the sun high in the sky throwing his shadow down to the ground. I eventually caught up to him, and asked him again what he had in mind.

"I haven't had a good sparring match in a while." That was his only explanation; the only thing he said. We arrived at the training ring within a minute, and he called a man over to us. I recognized the man from yesterday. The one who shot me a nasty glare…

Altaïr spoke to the man, but I was preoccupied by the men in the ring. They were graceful, almost dancing as they floated around the ring, striking at each other when they could. Suddenly, Altaïr moved away from me, and the man he had been talking to gave out a sharp order. The men in the ring fell away from each other.

I watched Altaïr as he moved into the ring, taking the offered sword from one of the men and twirling it expertly in his right hand before switching and twirling it in his left. A younger looking man hopped the fence into the ring, taking the other sword.

Altaïr stretched his hands above his head and cracked his neck as he limbered up. I wondered how he could fight with an injured shoulder _and_ hand. But my worries were soon put to rest. As they began sparring, watching Altaïr's fluid movements, his planned strikes, I almost laughed. He made the other man and the two men before him look like great lumbering bulls.

I tried to pay attention to each movement he made, but they all blurred together, and he got faster and faster. Before I knew it, his sword was at the other man's throat, and the defeated man left the ring in disappointment. Another man stepped forward, and within minutes, he was down, Altaïr punning him to the ground with one knee.

Altaïr stood, and as another man stepped forward, he removed his shirt. The sun was unmercifully hot, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his dark copper colored skin. His muscles rippled beneath his smooth skin, and I found myself watching them instead of his movements. This fight took longer than the last two, but Altaïr looked as if he was enjoying himself immensely. He smirked, and the man was soon defeated.

The crowd of white robed men cheered for him, but the trainer called him out with the excuse that pulverizing his students wasn't good for their morale. Altaïr picked up his discarded shirt and handed the sword off to one of the students.

I stood, watching as he approached. Some of his hair had escaped from his ponytail, and he pulled the leather band out of his hair before sweeping it back up and retying it. I couldn't help but stare as the small sea of people parted before him.

"What are you staring at?" he asked when he reached my side. I thought up something to say.

"The most lethal man I have ever seen." Ok, so it wasn't witty, but hey, it was true. He laughed and began walking towards the fortress again.

"I don't know about you," he called back, "but I stink. I could use a bath." I followed him like a loyal dog. He led me into a small room with many other doors inside against the back wall, and a small woman scurried up to us.

"We can take you in the third door to the right, sir," the woman said in a high pitched voice. Altaïr moved off in the direction of the door she motioned to. "You can use the room to the left of his, ma'am."

I nodded my thanks, and she moved away. I walked to the door, and opened it slowly. In the middle of the room, there was a large square tub built into the floor, and off to the right on the wall there was a rack of hanging towels. I walked to the center of the room, noticing that there was water in the tub.

I shucked off my clothes, and brought a towel and set it on the floor next to the tub. I stepped up to the side, and slid my foot into the water slowly, testing the temperature. It was comfortably warm, and I eased my body into the water. It was heavenly, and I felt my muscles begin to relax instantly.

O.O

I unwrapped the bandages from my shoulder and flung them to the ground before pulled my pants and under garments off and slipping into the warm water. I forced my muscles to relax, sinking deeper into the water until my nose was almost underneath its surface, leaving my eyes out.

I rubbed my right hand, the one I punched the wall with, and felt for any bones out of place. The knuckle of my middle finger was out the tiniest bit, and I popped it back into place easily. It didn't hurt too bad, but I rubbed it anyway to ease the dull throbbing.

My shoulder wasn't hurting very much anymore, and I relaxed on the water a bit more before pulling my hair out of the leather band and tossing the band to the side. I dunked my head under the water, attempting to wash out some of the tangles.

I needed a haircut, and I would probably ask for one once I got out of the tub. I surfaced after a minute or so of shaking my hair out beneath the water, and took a deep breath of air. I sat for a few more minutes in the water, but it began to get cold, so I stood reluctantly and got out.

After drying off with a towel, I put my clothes back on, but left my hair down. I walked out of the room, and the small mousy woman greeted me again.

"Can I ask a favor?" I asked.

"Anything, sir," the woman replied.

"Could you chop this god-awful hair off for me?"

"Of course sir, have a seat," she said, motioning to a chair. I couldn't help but take advantage of the fact that I was the most attractive thing to walk this earth and that people felt compelled to perform menial tasks for me because of it. It made me feel awful sometimes. _Sometimes_.

The woman picked up a sharp knife and none too gently began to hack away at my hair until it was a reasonable length. I thanked her when she was finished, and stood. I shook the shorter pieces of severed hair out of the hair that was still attached to my head, and Zyra stepped out of the room she had been in.

Her eyes widened when she saw my hair, and I felt a smile creep onto my face. She wandered closer and I brushed my hair out a bit more. It was a bit longer than I would have wanted it, but it didn't matter.

Zyra stood on her toes and ran her hand through over my head, and I gave her a confused look. She smiled.

"I wanted to see what it felt like." I walked out of the room, growing tired of looking at the same thing for too long.

Outside, the sun hung low in the darkening sky, and it would soon relinquish its hold over the earth to the moon. I walked back to our room, and upon entering found my robes cleaned and folded neatly on the edge of the bed. I slipped them on over the clothes I was wearing, and pulled my hood up.

"What are we doing now?" Zyra asked from where she stood by the window.

"_I'm_ going to see if your father's men have left the city. _You're _going to stay here. I gave her a warning glare, hoping she would do as I asked.

After strapping on my weapons, I cast a glance at Zyra's form, outlined by the rays of the setting sun through the window behind her. I walked to the door, before her quiet voice stopped me.

"Altaïr." She whispered my name, but I heard it nonetheless, and turned to face her again. "Please be careful," she said a little louder.

I dipped my head once and left the room in a flutter of white robes. I left the walls of the fortress behind me, careful not to bump into citizens as I half jogged down the path to the small city.

I scaled the side of the first building I saw and sat on the roof, searching the skies. I soon found what I was looking for. Two large birds circling lazily in the sky, across the city from each other. I had sent Suhaym and Areebah out to scout for me this morning after their hunting demonstration, asking them to follow large groups of soldiers.

I used the rooftops to get closer to Suhaym, and by the time I got there the sun had almost set. I slid into a low crouch and peeked over the edge of the building, spotting five or so soldiers across the street from me. I hid in the shadows cast by other, taller buildings.

The soldiers talked in hushed voices amongst themselves. I listened in for any clues as to where Zyra's father's men were, if they had not gone.

"I'm glad that pompous natured fellow left. He was beginning to anger me a bit more than any regular visitor would have," one of the men said.

"His daughter must be very important and beautiful for him to act like that. He was downright _rude_! He's lucky that there are no Templars here," another replied.

"I wonder if we could get a reward for finding that man's daughter… Maybe a rumble in the sack?" Another guard said. I left before I did something stupid. I set my course for Areebeh as she wheeled in tight circles in the sky.

I reached a near rooftop and searched the darkness for any signs of danger. Areebah surprised me by swooping down into an alley across the street and cawing. The alley was dark, but I decided it was worth the risk.

I scanned with my ears and eyes once again before jumping off the roof and rolling head over heels once before coming back up in a low crouch halfway across the street. I ducked into the alley and whistled for Areebah.

I couldn't see much, but I followed the direction Areebah's call had sounded from and found her standing on a pile of cloth. But upon further inspection, I realized that it was a man. The man was dressed in the robes of the Brotherhood. He was barely breathing.

I told Areebah to keep watch for soldiers while I returned to the fortress before hefting the man onto my uninjured right shoulder and carrying him out into the streets. I stayed close to buildings, watching Areebeh as she showed me the safe way.

We reached the fortress without any hindrances, and I took the man to the healer immediately. The old woman was sitting asleep in a chair, snoring lightly. I set the man down on a cleared table, and the resounding thud of his head hitting the table woke the old woman up. She regarded the situation and clucked her tongue once.

"Oh dear, what have we here?" I shrugged and left the unconscious man with the aging woman, making my way to the library to report to the Master about what I'd heard.

The Master was buried in his books again, as always, and I cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Ah, Altaïr," he said, looking up from his book. "I trust you had a relaxing day."

"Yes Master, but I was scouting the city and I found one of the brothers in an alley unconscious. And a group of guards said that the visiting troops had left."

"I assume you took the man to the healer?" I nodded. "Very well. You may go, Altaïr."

Bowing my head, I backed up a few paces before turning on my heel and returning to my room where, hopefully, Zyra was still waiting.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Yeah, I said you guys were going to hate me. Skipping all of Zyra's training and stuff... But I needed time to move faster, so I skipped a year. So there. Enjoy! Please review!**

**CHAPTER TEN**

_**One Year Later**_

I was flying. Plain and simple. That was the only word to describe what I was doing.

My training had come a long way in the year I spent learning from Altaïr, and I could keep up with him wherever we went now.

I hadn't killed anyone yet, but Altaïr did have a few more scars from my 'skills' with a blade. He now had a semi long scar that ran from above his upper lip and onto and below his lower lip on the right side of his face. We had been doing weapons training one day, and I caught him slightly off guard. I hadn't meant to hurt him.

Now we were doing a mission, my first, in Acre, sent here by Al Mualim to kill a high ranking Templar Knight. Some guards had spotted us and raised the cry of 'Assassin!' and we were running for our lives over the rooftops to hide and make it back to the bureau and safety.

I stayed close on Altaïr's heels seeing as I didn't know my way around Acre that well, and if we got separated, I would probably get caught, and eventually be executed.

I didn't mind the risks that came with this job. I got to rid the world of evil, and I got a pretty great adrenalin rush while doing it. So it all canceled out.

Altaïr ducked to the left behind a pole, and I followed, sneaking a quick look behind us to look for guards. What I didn't know was that Altaïr had pulled up short at the edge of the roof, and I bowled into him at full speed, throwing us both into the open air where we both landed rather ungracefully in a heap, arms and legs tangled together.

Altaïr was on his feet again in a moment, and I expected him to stop and yell at me for my carelessness, but he just melted into the thick crowd, and I followed close behind him.

Altaïr had become more and more relaxed and carefree as the days wore on, but he was still serious when he needed to be. I was beginning to like him more and more, with his dark eyes and slightly arrogant nature.

As we made our way across the street, gently pushing civilians out of our way, a group of twelve guards ran down the street right past us. Altaïr pulled me into a shadowed alley out of the way, and sat down behind some piled crates.

He burst into laughter, and I gave him a confused look.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked him.

"That was the most fun I've had on a mission yet, though I think I may have popped a rib out of place when you landed on top of me," he said, wincing slightly for a dramatic effect. I scowled. "Ooh, you're scaring me there."

I turned away from him and scouted the streets for any straggling guards. I heard him get up and felt him behind me, almost too close for comfort. Or just close enough, depending on how you looked at it. His hot breath tickled my neck. I turned to look up at him from beneath my hood.

"The coast is clear. Do you want to keep going or get back to the bureau?" He looked past me, over my shoulder, and his eyes widened a bit before he grabbed me and threw me back into the darkness.

His body was on top of mine, his head hovering above and slightly to left the left of mine as he peered around the crate to watch whatever had made him throw me in the first place. A dark look replaced the contented look on his face, and he didn't even have to explain what was wrong.

"Templars?" I whispered in his ear. He just nodded. I tried to keep my breathing steady as his weight crushed me against the ground before he finally realized I could hardly breathe. He lifted his torso off of mine, holding it in the air above me, propping himself up with his elbows. His eyes never left the Templars.

I couldn't see anything because of the crates, but I felt him relax above me, and he looked down at me, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Sorry for crushing you," he said huskily. I knew he was lying. I knew he found it immensely amusing. I pushed up against his chest, but he only let more of his weight rest on me. And he was _heavy_. I kept pushing, but to no avail.

"Do you _enjoy_ torturing me?" I asked him, false anger coloring my voice. He just chuckled before he stood, offering me a hand to help me up. He was very protective, and avoided doing reckless things when we were out together. I don't think I minded much.

I stood, brushing the dust off my white robes, checking to make sure my hood was still in place while I was at it. Altaïr loved to make fun of me because I was still a grey hooded novice, but that was because he never let me do anything on the missions aside from the occasional pick pocketing job. I was getting pretty good at that. Altaïr laughed a bit more then scaled the wall, and I climbed up behind him.

Once we reached the roof, he took off at a fast paced run, gliding over the rooftops ahead of me. I kept up with him, making sure to keep a close eye on the streets. We made it back to the bureau in no time, and we both dropped through the hole in the roof, landing silently on the floor.

The Rafiq, Fahad, stepped into the room, making sure it was just us. I waved at him, and he smiled.

"There's the little one," he said. "And unfortunately, she still has the big, greedy, stinky one with her." He was just joking, of course. I liked him a lot more than the Rafiq at Damascus, as he was more laid back.

Fahad was one of the people who was comfortable with my being a woman. Others still plotted for mine and Altaïr's downfall, but many had warmed up to the idea of a woman assassin among them.

We laughed, and moved into the other room. Altaïr and I sat at the only table in the room, and Fahad stood behind the counter, studying maps and other things.

"Altaïr," he said after a while. "Are you going to kill this Templar Knight, or toy with him until he decides to leave?"

"I have gathered enough information about him, and along with the information you have given me, I should be able to finish the job tomorrow," Altaïr replied, throwing a glance in my direction. I didn't know what that glance meant, but I wasn't sure if I liked it.

"Good, because I'm ready to be rid of you," he said jokingly. "But you, Zyra, can stay as long as you like. Your company is far easier to keep than his."

I laughed, and Altaïr laughed beside me. Our laughter faded into silence, and Altaïr stood after a few minutes.

"Come, Zyra. There is something I need to discuss with you." I stood up willingly enough, and followed him out of the room and through the hole in the roof. He didn't stop once he reached the roof, just kept on running.

I followed him, noting what turns we took and familiar landmarks in case he decided that he was going to leave me. A tall building came into view, and I noticed that we were headed straight for it.

I was about to ask what was going on when Altaïr ran slightly up the side wall of the towerand found a hand hold. He flashed me a smile before he started climbing the side of the tower. I shook my head, but followed him up the side of it.

It took me maybe five minutes to climb all the way up the tower, and when I reached the top, Altaïr was sitting on the edge of the circular fence made of stone that was supposed to prevent people from falling from the tower. Altaïr's legs dangled over the side, and I was tempted to nudge him a bit, just to get his blood pumping, but decided against it.

I looked around me, gazing out at the city sprawled around me. It was beautiful, and we sat in silence, watching the sun set.

"This is where I come to think, when I want to get away from people while I'm here. It was abandoned a little while ago, so nobody comes up here but me." Altaïr's voice was quiet, but without the noise of the city, I could hear him well. I walked to his side, and he glanced up at me before swinging his legs over the barrier and standing upright next to me.

He pulled me over to one of the sides and pulled me down to sit next to him. It was getting cold up that high, and I sat closer to him. Altaïr was _always_ warm.

"I'm going to need you to help me tomorrow," he began. "There's going to be a lot of people trying to kill us, and I need you to watch my back."

"Of course," I said.

"I'll have yours, but if I get injured, I don't want you to stay there with me," he said, his tone growing serious. "I want you to get the hell out of there, and hide in the Bureau until it's safe to come out. I know you've heard this before, but I want to reiterate, because this mission in dangerous. Templars aren't like the regular city guards. They're smarter and well trained."

I nodded solemnly. I had heard this before, but Altaïr had never been this serious when going over rules for a mission with me.

"I'll go for the target, but I need you to watch my back and keep them off of me." His voice grew gentler. "I know you haven't killed anyone yet, and I've been lenient on you. But this time, you're going to have to kill people. Can you do that?"

I nodded mutely. I knew the time would come for killing, but I didn't know if I could bring myself to take a man's life. But I knew I would, because one specific man's life was more valuable than the lives of men I didn't know. And I would do anything to protect this man from harm.

Altaïr's gaze was on the sunset, but I could tell he was preoccupied, so I took the time to study his face and commit it to memory. My eyes roved over his gently curving lips, his stubble covered chin, his deep eyes.

His eyes closed, and he heaved a sigh. I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder. It was getting colder, and I was getting tired. I was almost asleep when Altaïr stirred. I picked my head up of his shoulder, taking the offered hand after he was standing. He pulled me to my feet, but I was unprepared when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and back, pulling me against his chest.

I sighed, falling into a mini moment of bliss. All too soon he let me go. I watched him as he walked over to a small, thin wooden platform jutting out from the stone barrier. He searched the landscape below him, and after a few seconds, threw himself gracefully into the air, arms spread wide.

I stepped up to the platform. My stomach flip flopped as I saw the height. This was the highest I had ever jumped from, but I really didn't feel like climbing all the way back down, so I located the pile of hay, aimed, and jumped from the platform.

My breath caught in my throat as I fell, hurtling towards the ground. Then, it was over. I stood, hopped over the side of the cart, and brushed stray pieces of hay from my robes. Altaïr stood a short distance away from me, and when my knees stopped wobbling, I walked to his side, and we made our way back to the bureau.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! I've been getting ready for a concert (it's TOMORROW) so I haven't had time to write or post new chapters. I know that last chapter was pretty weak, and this one is too, in my opinion, but it'll get better, I promise. We still have a looooong way to go, so just hang in there. Thank you all for reading and thanks to my reviewers. Enjoy!**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Zyra had courage. Many of the _men_ I knew would turn away from this mission. Al Mualim entrusted it to me because he claimed I was the best, but I had a feeling that it was for a different reason.

Al Mualim had been acting strange lately, keeping most of the brothers at the fortress, and sending only a chosen few out on missions. I didn't question his actions, though. It was, in some remote way, against the Creed. So I obeyed.

I led Zyra back to the bureau, lost in thought. So I didn't hear the marching feet until it was almost too late. Zyra flew into my back knocking me into the shadow of a building. Thankfully, the soldiers hadn't seen us, and they marched straight past us.

We waited until the soldiers were well out of hearing range before we even breathed.

"Sorry," I whispered to Zyra. She was sitting on my chest, leaning over me to stay low. She glanced at me, and I gave an apologetic smile.

Our eyes stayed locked on each other's face for a long few minutes. Eventually, Zyra stood and dusted herself off.

"Thanks," I said as I stood up. "Sorry about that."

"The hell do you think you were doing?" she asked, mock anger coloring her tone. I grabbed her chin gently and turned her to where she was looking up into my eyes.

"I'm _sorry_," I said sincerely. "I was doing just that. Thinking. Forgive me?"

She sat there for a minute, her green eyes wide. I watched them slide over my face before locking with mine again. I didn't notice that I'd been leaning closer to her until she breathed out a shaky breath, breaking me from my trance.

I glanced down at those seductively curving lips before looking back into her eyes and relinquishing my hold of her chin. I turned and led her off again in the direction of the bureau, my thoughts racing in my head.

It didn't take me long to realize she wasn't following me. I stood halfway across the street, listening. I heard another group of soldiers approaching and motioned to Zyra, who was still in the shadows where we had hidden from the other group of guards. She nodded, and disappeared.

I stepped quickly into the shadows, listening to the soldiers get closer. They stopped right outside the alley I was hiding in, and I took a few silent steps backwards into the darkness. I heard the men speaking to each other, and took the chance to escape.

I turned and walked quickly but quietly to the back of the alley before scaling a wall. Silent as a shadow, I moved across the rooftops, hoping that Zyra had understood my signal and gone back to the bureau.

I noticed a slumbering archer just ahead, and decided to risk it. I needed to keep moving. I slipped silently past him, but he was not as asleep as I had originally thought, and he woke up. He stood and immediately knocked an arrow, raising it until it was level to the ground. There was no place for me to hide.

I was behind the man, but if I moved, he would hear me. So I stayed still, hoping he would go back to sleep. But I knew he wouldn't. He spun suddenly, and the arrow came loose. The bastard hit me in the arm, not even aiming.

There was a throwing knife lodged in his throat before he could raise the cry of 'Assassin!' I was moving again before the man hit the ground. I leaped from rooftop to rooftop, throwing silence to the wind. I gripped my wounded arm tightly, hoping that I wasn't leaving a trail of blood leading soldiers straight to the bureau.

The arrow had chosen to embed itself in my right bicep. I paused for a moment to snap off the end of the arrow that was protruding from the wound, clenching my teeth at the pain. I threw the broken arrow shaft off to the side and resumed my sprint.

After a few minutes, I reached the bureau and threw myself down into the hole, landing rather harshly on the ground. I stumbled as I tried to regain my balance, and Zyra appeared from the doorway, holding up a rather painful looking dagger. She sheathed it the instant she recognized me.

"Altaïr!" She ran to my side, and Fahad materialized next to her. They pulled me into the other room, and shoved me into a chair.

"I'm fine, really," I told them. Zyra barked out a laugh, and my eyes shot up to her face. Her eyes held mine for a moment before she looked away.

Fahad was gathering medical supplies, and even pulled out a knife and laid it on the table next to me. He shooed Zyra away, and she hovered somewhere behind me. Fahad pushed my sleeve up over the wound, his eyes taking in the broken stub of the arrow's shaft sticking out slightly from the hole it had punched into my muscle and flesh.

Fahad picked up a cloth from the table and dipped it in a bowl of water and began to wash some of the blood away.

"Zyra," he said as he worked, "I need you to come hand me whatever I ask for. Make sure you keep your eyes on him too. If he tries to go to sleep, don't let him. I don't care what you do. The arrow could have been poisoned."

Zyra took up a position in front of me, and I watched Fahad pick up the knife I had noticed earlier. He brought it close to the skin near the wound.

"This is going to hurt, Altaïr. Try to hold still please." I swallowed.

Sucking in a deep breath, I averted my eyes, instead choosing to look at Zyra as she stood over me. Her face was contorted into a look of pure worry. She glanced at me, and I smiled, trying to show her that I was fine. She looked back at my arm. Then I felt it.

It wasn't the most terrible pain I had felt before, but it was still pretty bad. Fahad had cut a small slit coming off of the hole in my arm, and was shoving the knife's sharp point deeper into the hole beside the arrow. He then caught the arrow on the tip of the knife and began prying it out.

I kept my eyes open for as long as I could, but I squeezed them shut after a minute to help block out the pain. I kept my arm as still as possible, and eventually, the pain lessened. I opened one eye and peered at Fahad. He was holding the arrow's tip up triumphantly.

I opened both eyes and looked at the hole in my arm. Blood was steadily oozing out, and Zyra was on the scene within seconds. She had a towel against the wound to try to stop some of the bleeding.

"We have a bit of a problem," Fahad said. I looked up at him, and he answered my unspoken question. "I'm not going to be able to stitch up the wound, so we have to cauterize it."

Fahad got a fire going, and Zyra continued to soak up the blood seeping from my arm. This was _just _my luck.

O.O

God _damn _that man. He had the uncanny ability to make me worry, and he shows up bleeding from an arrow wound, and tries to tell me that he's fine. _Bullshit_.

I sat there next to him, soaking up blood from his arm with a towel, cursing him in my mind.

"Zyra, help him get his robes off. I need a clear shot at the wound," Fahad directed. I obeyed, helping Altaïr stand and pulling his robes off over his head. I steered Altaïr closer to the fire and sat him down next to it.

"What happened?" I asked him. After he relayed his story, we sat there in silence for a while. Fahad would pull the flat sided dagger he had chosen out of the fire every once in a while to check it's heat, and I almost wanted to yell at him to keep it in the fire. It would heat up faster that way.

He pulled the dagger out one last time, and, satisfied with its heat, placed it back in the fire while giving me instructions.

"I need you to hold him as still as possible. Sit on his stomach and pin his arm with your knee, and don't let up until I tell you to. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded mutely and placed myself where he had told me too after Altaïr had laid down. I pinned his injured arm with my knee, and hoped to God that my weight would be enough to keep him still.

Fahad pulled the dagger from the hot coals and flames, and I readied myself for a struggle. I listened for the sound of burning flesh, and when I heard it, I leaned all my weight onto Altaïr's arm and chest.

He twitched, but when the pain grew unbearable, his back arched off the ground. I tried my best to keep him still, placing my hands on either side of his face, trying to distract him from the pain. After a moment, the struggling stopped. Fahad placed the blade back in the fire to reheat it.

"We have to do this _again_?" I asked unbelievably. Fahad simply nodded. So I went back to taking care of Altaïr. His eyes were half lidded, and his jaw was clenched tightly against the pain.

I stroked the sides of his face soothingly, trying to keep him calm. His every muscle was tensed beneath me.

"Altaïr, look at me." His eyes slowly focused on my face, and I smiled. "You're okay, right? We're almost done. Hang in there."

"Fahad," Altaïr said quietly, looking at the older man from the corner of his eye, "I _hate_ you."

I laughed. I felt like crying, and I didn't even know why. Altaïr's eyes focused on my face again. I rubbed soothing circles into his temples with my index fingers. His eyes slid closed.

"Fahad, do I wake him up?" Fahad glanced over, and nodded his head.

"Altaïr, I need you to keep your eyes open. Look at me," I said quietly to him. His eyes opened slowly, and I could see that he was exhausted. It broke my heart, seeing him like this. He slowly focused on me again. "That's it. See? You're fine."

Fahad brought the knife from the flames again, and I tensed up, readying myself for the job at hand. Again, the sound of burning flesh, and the smell filled my nostrils. Altaïr's reaction was not as bad as last time. He winced, and I stroked his face slowly.

That was it. Promptly after Fahad pulled the knife from his skin, Altaïr passed out. I admired his strength for staying awake that long. Fahad said to let him sleep, so I grabbed a spare blanket from behind the counter, and one of the pillows from the other room. I placed the pillow beneath Altaïr's head, and threw the blanket over him.

Fahad put out the fire and retired to his room, leaving me alone with Altaïr, as it had been for the past two nights. I sat next to Altaïr, listening to his breathing and watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept.

I pulled his injured arm from beneath the blanket, and decided that I would bandage it just in case. It could still get infected. I bandaged his arm tightly, trying not to wake him up while I was at it.

I laid down next to him on the ground, using my arm for a pillow, and fell asleep within minutes.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Well. Sorry it's been so long since I updated. Been busy. School's almost out and we have new marching band music to learn and we have to play Pomp and Circumstance for like two whole hours without stopping for Graduation. Pain in the ASS, I tell you! Anyway, updating will happen faster when school is out, I hope. I haven't been writing much, which sucks. So sorry people! Bear with me please! Thanks.**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

My arm was on _fire. _It woke me up earlier than I would have liked, but I needed some time to get ready anyway. I stood up and stretched, trying not to move my injured right arm too much.

My new wound was going to make today's mission so much harder. I extended my arm to its full length, wincing as I felt the skin stretch around the burned patch of skin.

"Are we still going to be able to do the mission today?" Zrya asked from her spot on the ground. She had woken up a few seconds ago, but I pretended like I hadn't noticed. I turned to face her.

"Yes. But I'm going to need your help a lot more now than I did before. Are you still up to it?" I studied her face carefully, trying to find any sign the she didn't want to do this, but over the past months, she had gotten better at hiding her feelings from me. I didn't find any sign of emotion.

Zyra nodded as she got to her feet. I replaced my robes and weapons, making sure that I had plenty of throwing knives. About twenty minutes later, we were making our way across the rooftops towards our target's house.

The target didn't wake up until later in the day, but there were guards stationed all around his large house. We would enter through a window on the third story, putting us in the room next to the one the target would be sleeping in.

We reached a rooftop adjacent to the targets mansion-like house, and stopped to catch our breath. I cast a glance at Zyra from beneath my hood. I couldn't see anything but her lips under her grey hood, and they were set in a hard line.

After this mission, she would probably get the white hood of a master, and she would complete missions on her own. I didn't want that. Her company was far less annoying to me than it had been that day in Damascus, so long ago.

She had grown on me, and I had become dependent on her company. After the first few weeks of being in her company, my nightmares had gone away, and my mood got lighter. Nashwan wasn't so annoying anymore, but I still felt like ripping his teeth out one by one every once in a while. Especially when he talked about Zyra. _That_ pissed me off.

I took an extra minute to gather my thoughts, pushing all else away except the mission. When I was sure I would be able to concentrate, I scaled the side of the target's mansion and climbed swiftly to the window.

It was open, so I pulled myself in silently. I scoped the room for signs of any Templars, waiting for Zyra. She was at my side in seconds, and I continued out the door, checking for Templar guards, and continued on to the next room.

It was eerily quiet, and the door swung open easily. I stepped into the room, my senses on high alert. Zyra stepped ahead of me, checking the rooms that branched off of this one. There was a bed in the center of the room, and there was a very fat, balding man snoring heavily in the center. The rest of the room was bare.

There were no windows, so we would have to get out the way we came. I regarded the man carefully, finding that the dumb brute had stuffed _cotton_ in his ears. _How stupid can this guy be?_ I thought.

It was an easy enough assassination, and I ended the man's life by sliding a dagger into the soft flesh of his throat. He died quickly.

But something wasn't right about this. There were no guards, no security measures, _nothing_. I stepped back out into the hall, and found nothing again. I decided to find out what was up. I walked down the hallway, away from our escape.

I turned the corner at the end, and immediately wished I hadn't. There were maybe fifteen Templars stationed there, all waiting for us.

"Run!" I yelled to Zyra. The Templars charged, closing the short distance between us. I unsheathed my sword, and brought it up against the sword of a Templar, simultaneously throwing a dagger into the crowd of soldiers.

One man went down, the dagger protruding from his neck. I busied myself with taking down another guard, when a flash of grey and white flew past me and into the group of men. The _one_ time I _**really**_ need Zyra to follow directions, she doesn't.

She downed two men before locking blades with another. I killed the man I was fighting, and pushed my way into the center of the group until my back was to hers. We fought long and hard, but Zyra's steps were beginning to falter, and I feared that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

More Templars kept arriving, but I could see a clear path to escape through a gap. I killed the men blocking the way, and threw Zyra through the hole. She gave me a panicked glance.

"Run!" I yelled again. This time, thankfully, she did run. A few guards took off after her, but she could handle it. I had other things to worry about anyway, because the biggest man I had ever seen stepped forward. The other men fell away from me.

"So, little assassin, you have come to kill me, no?" _This_ was the target? He was a full three feet taller than me, with arms as big around as Zyra's entire body. I was glad she left. I didn't want her to die too.

And then I realized, in the middle of this room full of sweaty men than wanted me dead, that I loved her. It knocked the breath out of me, leaving me staggering. I regained my composure, trying to think of a witty comeback, but decided just to attack.

I leaped upwards for the man's face, dagger raised, and aimed it at his neck. He twisted at the last second, but I still managed to get the dagger deep into his shoulder. The man roared in pain, and swung one of his massive arms at me.

I ducked underneath the blow, rolling off to the side. I stood again, slashing at one of the Templars, catching him in the stomach. The floor was getting slick with blood, and the other Templars slipped as they ran to catch me.

The huge man plucked the dagger from his shoulder and tossed it off to the side. I faced him fully, waiting for him to attack. When it did come, it was slow and lumbering, and I ran up the wall to my right and sliced his throat open with a throwing knife from my belt. I threw three more at the other guards, killing all except one.

The guard stood there, terrified, then turned and ran. He didn't get very far. I turned back to the very large, dying man, pulling a white feather from a pouch at my waist.

"You… will _die,_" he said. I ran the feather along his bleeding throat and returned it to its pouch.

"We all die eventually. I expect no less," I muttered into the air. I left the building the way I had come, climbing down the wall quickly, and returned to the bureau.

Fahad was standing behind the counter, and he looked up when I walked into the room. I laid the bloody feather on the desk. After glancing around, I turned back to Fahad.

"Where is Zyra?" I asked him.

"I was just about to ask you that," he returned. I left the bureau again, worried that maybe Zyra had been captured by guards or Templars, my heart jumping at the thought of her being _dead_.

I scoured the entire city, but found no sign of her. I almost returned to the bureau to check if she was there, but instead I decided to look around some more.

I didn't care if she was hiding and didn't want to be found. I didn't care one bit. Knowing that she was safe was better than letting my imagination take hold of me. My mind would conjure up an array of scenarios. Just thinking about it made me want to kill any man that so much as _looked_ at her.

"God, I'm getting _protective _now too," I said to the empty air. The sun was setting again, and I almost gave up my search before I remembered yesterday. Sitting up in the abandoned tower, watching a sunset much like this, and I mentally slapped myself for not thinking of checking that tower earlier.

I ran over the rooftops to the tower, and climbed it quickly. As I neared the top, I slowed down, becoming silent. I peered over the low stone wall that circled the top of the tower, and found Zyra sitting with her back against the rail, staring at her hands.

I climbed the rest of the way up and over the barrier, approaching her carefully. A silent sob racked her body as I watched, and my heart wrenched in my chest. I scuffed my foot as I approached her, alerting her to my presence before I sat down next to her.

She looked up at me with tear filled eyes, and my heart wrenched again. I brought my right hand up to cup her cheek and wiped away the tears with my thumb. She turned her head away, and scooted father off from me.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, my voice soft. She sniffed and rubbed at her face with the back of her hand.

"You must think me weak for crying like this," she said after a moment. I scooted a little closer to her.

"Of course not, Zyra. You're not weak," I told her. Her hands lay in her lap, and she twisted them back and forth. It was a nervous habit she had picked up shortly after we had begun her training. I had noticed it the first time she started doing it.

I placed my right hand on top of both of hers, and her hands went still. Her eyes lifted to meet mine. I didn't like this behavior from her. It reminded me of when her father had shown up in Masyaf. I cursed that day.

"I've never killed anyone before," she said quietly. The tears started up again, and I pulled her into my lap. She curled up against me, leaning her head on my chest.

I just held her while she cried, and after a few moments, the tears stopped falling.

"How do you deal with it?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.

"To be truthful, I don't really feel anything anymore. No remorse, nothing. But I never forget the faces. The faces always come to haunt me while I sleep."

We sat in silence while she processed that information. The sun was almost beneath the horizon now, and I wanted to see the entire sky as it happened. I pulled my hood down and leaned my head back.

The sky was a mixture of colors. Pinks and oranges blended into dark, inky blues farther away from the sun. A few clouds added dots of creamy yellow to the mix. All in all, it was a beautiful sunset.

I felt Zyra watching me, and looked back down at her. Her hood was down also, and her green eyes sparkled in the light. She was even more beautiful than the sunset was. Her brown hair reflected the sunlight, making it shine a honey gold color.

I stared into her eyes, losing sense of everything but her. Without even realizing it, my head had dipped further down, and my nose brushed hers. Then my body took control, shoving all else away, and I kissed her.

( FINALLY! Right? XD )

O.O

I knew that Altaïr would surely die if I left, but he threw my away from the fight, and the look in his eyes scared me, so I ran. I ran away from the death and carnage that _I _had helped create. Men were following me, so I spun and threw some throwing knives like Altaïr had taught me. Three more lives taken by my hands.

I ran to the room we had entered through, and flung myself out of the window, barely catching the ledge with the tips of my fingers. I reached the ground and kept running, wanting more than anything to escape from myself. But I couldn't seem to get away.

The blood from the soldiers I had killed had turned my robes from white to red, but I didn't care. I tried to tell myself that I was justified in killing those men. They were threatening the man I loved, but my mind kept telling me that it was a lie. _I_ was a lie.

I didn't know what I was looking for until I found it. The tower. I climbed quickly. Upon reaching the top, I threw myself down into the hole. My body hit the ground hard, and my teeth clacked together.

I screamed at the sky, and then I curled myself up into a ball and tried to rid myself of the memory of my sword slicing through flesh and bone, the sounds of dying men. I passed out.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Oh. My. Frickin'. Gawd. I am sorry that I haven't updated this hoe in TWO WHOLE MONTHS. You guys can cuss me out and say that you hate me as much as you want, okay? I won't hold it against you, I swear. My summer has been really busy because of marching band. my band director murders the kids that don't show up for practice. I haven't had time to write much, and I feel terrible that I told you guys that updates would pick up over the summer. I'm a lyin' SOB. Sorry guys! But I am NOT giving up. So here is the next chapter. Chap. 14 is in the makings, and will be out soon. I'M SO SORRY! You guys can each stab me once, to make yourselves feel better... If you have to. I love you people! Thanks so much for your support. And again, I'm sorry.**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

I woke up some time later. The sun had dipped in the sky, and was making its descent towards the horizon. My mind had calmed a bit. I sat up, propping myself up against the railing behind me. I stared at my hands, horrified at the fact that I had _killed_ people with them.

I sat like that for some time before I heard the shuffling of a foot somewhere to the right of me. I didn't look up; I knew it was Altaïr. He sat down beside me, and I looked up at him. I was still crying.

He brought a hand up to my cheek and wiped the tears situated there away with his thumb. I looked away, biting my lip and scooting myself farther away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. I sniffed and rubbed at the tears on my face.

"You must think me weak for crying like this," I said after a little while. He scooted a little closer to me, but I didn't move away this time.

"Of course not, Zyra. You're not weak," he told me. His voice was gentle and soft. I loved that voice. And I loved that man. My hands twisted in my lap, and he laid his right hand on top of both of mine. They stopped moving.

"I've never killed anyone before," I said quietly. I started crying again, and he pulled me into his lap. I curled up against him, laying my head on his chest. I hadn't realized it was cold until I felt how warm his body was. I started crying again, and I cursed myself for being so weak.

Eventually, the tears stopped.

"How do you deal with it?" I asked.

"To be truthful, I don't really feel anything anymore. No remorse, nothing. But I never forget the faces. The faces always come to haunt me while I sleep."

So that was what his dreams were about. I'd always wanted to ask him, but I was too scared to bring it up again. I had finally gotten him to let his guard down around me, so I didn't want his walls back up to keep me out.

He pulled his hood down and tilted his head back, his eyes roving slowly over the sky. I pulled my hood down too. He truly was an attractive man, with his strong jaw line and his dark eyes. I guess he noticed that I was staring, because he looked down at me.

His eyes held me captive. I couldn't look anywhere else, but that was just fine. All other thoughts escaped my mind, and time seemed to slow as I got lost in the depths of his eyes. He got closer and closer, and my nose brushed his.

His eyes closed, and his lips touched mine lightly before he pressed them harder against mine. I sat there, stock still. His lips began moving against mine, and I lost control of my body. My eyes closed, and I kissed him back, my hand travelling up his neck and into his short hair.

Altaïr deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I moaned softly before repositioning myself on top of him. I moved slowly, keeping my lips against his, until my legs were on either side of his.

I brought my right hand up to the side of his face, and felt his hands run down my sides and come to rest on my hips. I didn't know if he felt the same way about me as I felt about him, but at the moment I didn't care.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air, and his eyes opened at the same time mine did. He looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with something I had never seen before. His right hand fell from my hip only to be replaced at my cheek. I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing tightly shut.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm really not. Plus, I think you enjoyed that as much as I did," he whispered to me. I smiled, releasing his hand. He pushed some loose strands of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear. He pulled me close for another kiss.

He pulled away too soon for me, and I crushed my lips against his again. He chuckled from deep in his chest. I pulled away to catch my breath.

"Fahad may think we're dead. We should probably get back," Altaïr said slowly. I groaned, whishing that we had all the time in the world. I stood reluctantly and offered my hand to pull him up.

"How's your arm?" I asked him after he stood. He stretched it slowly.

"Fine, I guess. Did you get injured today?" He asked back. I shook my head. I was worried more about _him_. He seemed fine though, from what I could tell. I was light headed, and I felt like I was walking on air. I guess kissing does that to you.

"I tell you what," he said, a mischievous grin sliding onto his lips. "I'll race you to the bureau. If you win, you get whatever you want. Same for me if I win."

"And just what do you want?" I asked him, grinning myself. My dark mood was blotted out by his radiant presence.

"I can't tell you that. While you're running, though, think long and hard about what you want, and about how you're not going to get it."

I pouted. He thought he could beat me? Well I would give him a run for his money.

"Ok," I said, circling around him. "Ready set go!" I yelled, slurring the words together. I jumped off the platform that I had stepped in front of; aiming for the pile of hay I knew was there. I landed in it and climbed out in seconds.

I turned, waved back up at Altaïr, who was still up in the tower, and took off at a sprint in the direction of the bureau. I ran faster than I ever had before, but I also thought about what I would want Altaïr to do when I won.

I could see the bureau in front of me, a few buildings over. I ran faster; I could _taste_ victory. There was a scuffing noise behind me, and then Altaïr was right beside me. He was too fast. He turned his hooded head to look at me and smirked.

I half expected him to trip me or something. I laughed out loud, my earlier mood forgotten. Altaïr jumped a crate, and took a slight lead. I pushed myself for more speed, and just as we reached the bureau, Altaïr jumped earlier than I was used to, and ducked into the hole in the roof. I landed beside him not two seconds later.

"That's not fair! You cheated!" I was laughing despite my false anger, my lungs heaving to take in enough air. Altaïr was hardly winded. That made me jealous.

"I didn't cheat. There were no rules." He looked up as Fahad walked into the room. Fahad saw us, shook his head, and walked back out of the room. A new wave of laughter washed over me at his expression. I felt lighter; happier.

Altaïr was watching me, but I pretended not to notice. He always watched me, like I was about to break. I walked into the other room, grabbed some bread, and started eating it. I sat down at the table.

"So Altaïr, what do you want from me? Since you beat me and all," I asked him. I watched him stop moving all together. He turned to me, and I feared for my life, looking at that smirk. It sent shivers down my spine.

I pulled my hood down since we were inside. Fahad glanced at me, a question in his eyes, but I just shook my head. He shrugged and went back to his documents. I yawned after finishing my piece of bread. My stomach was full, and I was tired, but I didn't want to go to sleep. I didn't want to see the faces of the men I had killed in my dreams.

I stood from my chair and walked into the other room, plopping down on some of the cushions strewn about the floor. Lying on my back, I looked up at the stars. I never heard Altaïr approach, so when he sat down next to me, I jumped in surprise.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"So, what _do_ you want from me?" I asked him after a while. He chuckled beside me, and I twisted my head to look up at him. He had let his hood down, and was staring up at the stars also.

"I actually don't know. But I'll think of something." I smiled. Altaïr yawned and laid down next to me. We sat in silence for a while. Altaïr and I had come to realize things about each other over the past year.

Altaïr liked silence, because I don't think he really knew how to interact with people very well. He had gotten used to me, though, and was himself when we were together. When we were not on missions, I watched him with his birds, just observing his moods and quirks. He didn't have many.

"Are we going back to Masyaf tomorrow?" I asked him.

"Yes. We will have to gather supplies for the journey in the morning, so I'm expecting that we'll head out around midday. We should arrive at Masyaf within the next three days." The ride from Acre to Masyaf was longer then the ride from Damascus to Masyaf. It would take maybe two days if we pushed the horses.

"Let me see your arm," I ordered him. I wanted to make sure that it would be okay for the trip. He sighed but rolled up his sleeve anyway. I unrolled the bandage from around his bicep carefully, trying not to touch the skin near the burn.

The wound was clean and dry, so I didn't figure that it needed anything except more bandages. I stood and walked into the other room, finding that Fahad had gone to bed. I rummaged around for bandages in the shelves behind the counter, but couldn't find any.

"Altaïr, where are the bandages?" I called towards the other room. I felt another presence behind me, and spun around. Altaïr was standing there, holding up some squares of folded cloth.

"Right here," he answered. Altaïr's eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. I approached him, reaching for the bandages, but he moved them behind his back.

I pouted at him, and he laughed a little.

"Please?" I asked him sweetly.

"You have to give _me_ something first. That's how trades work, right?" I pursed my lips and lifted my foot to come to rest against the side of the counter, supporting some of my weight.

"That depends on if I think it's worth trading for bandages though," I tried.

"It doesn't matter. Give me what I want, or you don't get the bandages."

"You're such a prick! I need the bandages for _your_ arm," I reminded him. He looked like he was thinking up a new argument, but I didn't feel like listening. I used the foot that was propped up against the side of the counter to push myself at him. I collided with him and sent us both tumbling to the ground.

Nonetheless, I got the bandages in the end. I sat on his chest, waving them in front of his face triumphantly. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared up at me. I stood up, offering him both hands to help him up.

I pulled him to his feet, but he didn't stop moving. He pushed me up against the counter behind me, pinning me there with his body. He tilted my face up towards his and planted a kiss on my lips.

"That's all I wanted," he said, smiling.

"Next time, don't ask," I told him before kissing him again.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Holy crap, guys. Sorry for my absence, but this chapter was hard to get out. Motivation from a certain someone (you know who you are :D) made me grind this chapter out and decide that even if I didn't like it, which I don't, I needed to get **_**something**_** out. So here is this crap-tastic chapter full of fuzzy details and bad grammer. And by the way, if one of you hunts me down and murders me in my sleep, I DON'T EVEN CARE. If you feel you need to, go right on ahead.**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

I woke up in Altaïr's arms, later in the morning than he would have liked, I'm sure. I laid there with my eyes closed, just relaxing. Thankfully, I hadn't had any nightmares about the men I had killed. I think Altaïr kept them at bay.

He shifted beside me on top of the cushions we had fallen asleep on, and I knew he was waking up. Al Mualim never had gotten us separate rooms; maybe he had forgotten. But I was partly grateful, because I got better about knowing when he was awake and when he was truly asleep and not faking it.

He mumbled something and rolled over onto his back. He often slept facing the door in whatever room we were in, an unconscious habit that had saved both our lives before. He was usually a light sleeper, waking at the slightest noises.

I laid there, and watched as Fahad came out of his room behind the counter, walked into the middle of the room, and stretched his arms high over his head. He glanced in the room, and I smiled at him. He returned the smile and went to make breakfast.

Altaïr woke up slowly. I think he was trying to prolong his moment of comfort. He stretched languidly, keeping his eyes tightly shut against the light. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before attempting to run a hand through my hair.

I usually kept it in a low ponytail, out of the way, but sometime last night it had come undone, and was severely tangled. I sighed before smoothing it down and re-tying it without brushing it. That would have to wait for later.

Altaïr sat up beside me. He hid his eyes behind his right hand, but parted his fingers to peer out at me. I smiled at him, and he grinned back. I stood up and stretched, Altaïr following suit a moment later.

He looked towards the sky once his eyes became accustomed to the light, and sighed.

"We're late, right?" I asked him. He smiled down at me, and gave me a small kiss before wandering into the other room.

I took a moment to re adjust the bandages that I wrapped tightly around my breasts to make me look more like a man. After careful observation from rooftops of how men walked and acted, and after talking with Altaïr and Malik a bit, I was quite successful in tricking people into thinking I was male.

Malik and I were good friends now, but I didn't hold the same bond with him that he shared with Altaïr. I didn't mind much. Malik was a very kind person, and was cheery most of the time. Kadar and I didn't talk much, but we weren't enemies.

I entered into the other room just as Fahad was bringing out our breakfast. Bread and cheese, the usual. But I didn't mind, because I was famished. While we ate, we discussed what we would need for our trip back to Masyaf; plenty of food, water and other things. The journey from Damascus had taken only a day, whereas the trip from Acre to Masyaf would take around three.

Altaïr left to get supplies, leaving me at the bureau with Fahad. We sat in comfortable silence for a while before Fahad spoke.

"Are you alright, dear?" Fahad asked gently. My gaze lifted from the floor to his face, and I nodded.

"Why do you ask?" I questioned.

"Because I know from experience that the first kill is the hardest," he said quietly. Up until this point, I hadn't thought about that much. I tried to forget it, and was successful until he brought it up.

"I'm okay, for now," I told him, ending the conversation. I sat around trying to keep my mind off of yesterday's events. After about an hour, Altaïr dropped back through the hole in the roof. I greeted him with a smile as he walked in the room, and he nodded in return.

"Are we leaving?" I asked him. He nodded again.

"Finally!" Fahad said with a smile. "The Beast is leaving!"

We laughed for a moment, and I couldn't help but notice that Altaïr's laugh was forced. I wondered why he was so uptight. He had seemed fine this morning. I gave him a questioning look, but he just shook his head: _Later._ I nodded once.

After we said goodbye to Fahad, Altaïr and I exited through the hole in the lattice work in the next room, and took off across the city towards the main gate. When the gate was in sight, Altaïr motioned for a stop.

I gazed towards the gate, noticing the bloody crosses of the Templars. There were many more than there were when we had arrived.

"As you have noticed, there are more Templars stationed at the gate. We need to be careful when leaving." His voice was cold and hard, just like his eyes were when he looked at me. I wondered why he was so distant again, why his wall was back up.

I turned my attention to the streets, finding what I was looking for, and lowered myself into the streets. I didn't know if Altaïr was following me, but I hoped he had seen what I had, and was following. I made my way over to the group of scholars I had spotted, giving them an imperceptible nod. The lead scholar gave me a serene smile, and I clasped my hands together, matching their unhurried pace towards the gate.

Eventually we made it outside, and I nodded at the scholars again, exiting from their group. I approached the stable we had boarded our horses at when we first came here, and gathered both of our horses. I led them around for a few minutes, waiting for Altaïr.

Without warning, he showed up behind me and grabbed his horse's reigns. Immediately, he walked away from me and mounted his white stallion. I bit back my questions, mounting my own mahogany brown horse.

We took off at a trot, heading towards Masyaf. We rode for hours before I attempted to speak to him.

"Altaïr, what's wrong?" I asked him loud enough so that he could hear me over the horses. His eyes flashed to mine for a second before he looked away over the countryside. I nudged my horse closer to his, and asked again. It was a while before he spoke.

"Are you happy, Zyra? Are you happy doing this?" I told him I was, and it was not entirely a lie. Being a part of the Brotherhood, learning their ways, had given me a freedom that no one else could have given me. I no longer felt weak and helpless, but strong and empowered.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Zyra," he said then, looking over at me. His eyes were so full of sadness that my heart wrenched at the sight. "_I_ brought you into this, and you know that I would give anything to protect you, but I don't think I could live with myself if you were to get hurt, because it would be my fault."

"Altaïr, no. It wouldn't be your fault," I told him. He shook his head.

"It would be my fault, because I didn't even ask you what you wanted. And neither did Al Mualim. You never had the choice."

I saw his logic, the reason why he was so sad, and it was true. I hadn't had a choice about this, but if I had, I would have said yes anyway. I told him that, but he didn't say anything else.

I watched the sky darken as we rode towards Masyaf. We would be making camp soon, as nights in the desert could get very cold. After another hour, the sun was touching the horizon, and Altaïr pulled off to the side of the path and dismounted.

We set up camp. I made the fire while Altaïr pitched the tent. We worked in silence. When we finished, Altaïr got a few strips of dried meat from one of the saddle bags and handed one to me.

I ate quickly, surprised at my hunger. When I finished, I sat staring into the fire, lost in my own world. I didn't notice Altaïr stand and make his way behind me until he sat down again directly behind me.

I hadn't noticed that I was shivering until I felt how warm he was. His arms snaked around my waist and dragged me backwards until I was practically sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around me, and his chin resting on my shoulder.

I felt my eyelids begin to droop as his warmth surrounded me, but forced my eyes to remain open. I felt him chuckle as I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand, trying to play it off as a stretch.

He picked me up and carried me into the tent, laying me down gently before settling beside me. I mumbled a rushed goodnight to him, and fell asleep.

O.O

I lay there for a while, just watching her sleep. Her face was peaceful and serene; a difference from what it had been during the day. I knew that she was worried about me, but I couldn't find the right words to explain why I felt the way I did. I had tried, while we were sitting at the fire, but it didn't sound right to me. I hoped she would understand.

I brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and let my hand linger on the silky skin. She was a beautiful woman on the outside, and had a beautiful personality also. It was her character that drew me in, like a moth to a flame.

She shifted to a more comfortable position, and I let myself sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: ****I just found out that I made a BIG BOO BOO. It turns out that I had another chapter already written that I thought I had posted but didn't. Silly me. SO double chapter update for you guys! Thanks for being so patient.**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

We rose early, and continued on our way after a light breakfast. I sat atop my horse, rocking gently with the rhythm of its canter. Looking back at that first day, when I was forced to ride for the first time, I looked like a sack of grain thrown up on the horse's back, bobbing around and nearly falling every ten minutes. Now I looked like a professional.

We rode most of the way in an easy canter, and after a few hours we slowed the horses to a walk so they could rest. I gazed around at the desert, with its sparse shrubbery and few trees. Altaïr had been right when he had said that I would see more countryside. It was a beautiful place, but the temperatures were oftentimes unbearable. Boiling in the daytime, and freezing at night.

Altaïr and I rarely spoke when we rode, preferring to listen to the music of the day. The birds chirping, the leaves rustling, and the other instruments included in the symphony of life. So when Altaïr spoke, it caught me slightly off guard.

"Zyra, no one can know of what happened between us. Word would spread, and we would be killed. I know you don't want that, and I don't want that either, so please don't tell anyone." I stared at him in shock. I had never thought about that. But now that I did think of it, Al Mualim would have us both beheaded if he ever found out. In some remote way, we were compromising the Brotherhood. That was against the Creed.

Being an Assassin, you have to think and plan things carefully and meticulously. If something went wrong, or if you did something irresponsible, it would, in some remote way, break one of the tenants of the Creed. It was very easy to do that, and the consequences were terrible.

"I won't tell anyone," I said quietly. I knew the dangers that came with this "job." _Assassins aren't allowed to love,_ I told myself. And I believed it. It was too dangerous. And even though my feelings for Altaïr were strong, I knew that I had to purge them completely. Otherwise, they could get us both killed.

Altaïr nodded at me to show he had heard my reply. I went back to studying the countryside. I looked to the open sky, and saw a large bird circling a ways ahead of us. I called to Altaïr, bringing the bird to his attention, and he nodded again. We slowed the horses to a gentle trot, hoping that there were no soldiers or Templars barring our path.

As we drew closer, the stench of death hung in the air, pervading my nostrils. Peering ahead, I saw lumps lying motionless on the ground. Altaïr cursed under his breath. Men, women, and children lay in heaps on the hard turf, bloody and broken.

"What…. What happened here?" I asked, stunned. We dismounted and walked over to the bodies. I stared at the corpse of a young woman wrapped protectively around her baby. Both were still and lifeless.

"Templars," Altaïr replied after a while. The word hung in the still air for several minutes. Nothing else was said. Nothing needed to be said. The simple one-word explanation was enough. Already, I could see the scene flashing through my mind.

Helpless travelers, slaughtered like a herd of sheep for no real reason. No mercy, no feeling. How could they be so unfeeling? So heartless?

"It's as if they aren't even human…" I muttered. Altaïr stood motionless over the bodies, his fists clenched. We stood there for a few more minutes, praying for the people who were so mercilessly killed.

Altaïr walked back to his horse and mounted in one smooth, brisk movement. After a few more seconds, I mounted my horse and we rode on. I knew that we could not have buried the misfortunate civilians, but my heart sagged with the knowledge that we just…left.

The eagle circling over head swooped down in a graceful dive before landing on Altaïr's gauntlet. We rode at a steady walk for almost fifteen minutes before Altaïr commanded the bird away and broke into a canter.

The eagle flew ahead of us, becoming nothing but a speck of black against the clear blue of the midday sky. We rode in silence, not bothering with words. There was nothing to say that could make the images imprinted on our minds go away. We both coped as best we could.

Finally, after what seemed like days but was only a few hours, we stopped to give the horses a rest. Pulling to the side of the dusty road, we sat in the shade of a few trees while the horses regained their breath and had some water.

After a while, we were on our way again, cantering through the wilderness towards Masyaf. My stomach was turning flips at the thought of returning there to face Al Mualim. If he suspected anything, he would kill us.

Altaïr seemed to be fine, riding calmly with his usual blank expression. I wondered briefly what he was thinking about, and then decided that it didn't matter much. Why should I care what he was thinking about?

O.O

I was worried about Zyra. She hadn't said much of anything since we began our journey this morning, and I feared that the sight of the corpses on the road had frightened her. She seemed like she was alright, but I couldn't glean much knowledge from the occasional glance at her.

I watched as the light slowly faded away and searched for a campsite for the night. After a few minutes of scrutiny, I found a nice spot and called to Zyra to slow her horse. We crossed the road to the spot I had chosen, which was a small clearing in the center of a small copse of trees, and stopped the horses.

After we made pitched the small tent and built a fire, we watered the horses. Zyra stayed silent. I suppose I wouldn't have been worried if she had a quieter nature, but she was outgoing and alive, and not this lifeless person sitting across the fire from me.

I heard a familiar cry from the trees above us, and whistled to Suhaym. He glided down and perched on my left arm. I noticed a small, rolled up piece of parchment and reached for it. Suhaym stood calmly while I untied the note from his foot. I opened the note and read it.

_Altair,_

_One of your birds nearly took my head off. They miss you. Again. Al Mualim wished me to write to you to tell you that your apprentice is almost ready to wield the hidden blade. He has but one more mission for you. He will give you the details when you arrive. Make haste, Brother. The Master is eager to have you home. _

_Safety and peace,  
Malik_

It was no use sending a message back. We would be back at Masyaf soon anyway. It was only a matter of time. The news that Zyra would become a full fledged Assassin soon was slightly shocking. It seemed like she had only been at Masyaf for a few days, rather than a year and a few months.

But if Al Mualim deemed her fit to join us as an Assassin, then she was ready. I glanced up at her, watching the flames dance in her eyes for a moment before turning my gaze to Suhaym. The bird cocked his head sideways and gave me a knowing look. _The damn bird is probably smarter than me,_ I thought.

After a few more minutes of staring into the fire, I decided that it was time to give my weary bones a few hours of rest before we pushed for Masyaf in the morning.


End file.
